Alone
by Katt9966
Summary: A dark time for Jonathan contains non-con . Some very dark scenes.
1. Default Chapter

Title: - Alone.

Author: - Kattanon.

E-mail: - kattanon@hotmail.com

Rating: - R.

Fandom: - The Mummy.

Pairing: - Jonathan/m.

Archive: - If you'd like it just let me know.

Feedback: - Like or loathe it let me know.

Warning: - Contains violence and non-con.

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

For Sheri, because she asked.

Alone – Chapter 1.

Jonathan shivered as he stepped out of the warmth and noise of the bar and onto the quiet, dark street. He pulled his jacket closer around himself as a cold wind blew down the empty street; the whiskey he'd just consumed in rather large quantities doing little to keep the chill from settling deep into his bones. For a moment he paused torn between re-entering the bar with it's noise and smells of alcohol and unwashed bodies, but mostly with it's hubbub of humanity, the company of others, and turning towards the lure of his warm bed. A yawn decided the question for him and he turned to the right and made his way a little unsteadily down the street.

As he walked Jonathan considered the past evening. He was usually the life and soul of the party always ready to have a good time, a little drink and a good card game, but lately he just couldn't seem to socialise as he had, and tonight had been no exception. Instead of finding some fool he could fleece out of his money at a game of poker he spent his time sitting alone making his way through the best part of a bottle of cheap whiskey. It had been this way ever since he'd returned from Hamunaptra with Evy and O'Connell. For the first time in his life he felt alone. Before what ever happened, whatever trouble he had managed to get himself into he'd known he'd always had Evy. If he'd needed a little money to pay off a few debts or someone to pay a fine or two and so get him out of the local jail he knew that Evy would always come through for him. However, things were different now, now there was O'Connell. He was used to being the only man in his little sister's life, but now he'd been replaced and he wasn't at all sure he liked the feeling. Of course he loved Evy and wanted her to be happy but he couldn't help feeling a little shut out.

During the journey back to civilisation from Hamunaptra the two lovebirds had billed and cooed with eyes for nothing but each other. At night Jonathan had taken to sleeping as far away from the fire as he could without freezing so he could afford them some privacy for their courtship. The old adage was definitely true "two's company but three's a crowd". It wasn't done on purpose he was sure, he knew Evy wasn't like that and O'Connell seemed a decent sort of chap, but still it had made him uncomfortable. When they'd returned to Cairo things hadn't changed. He had wanted to return home to England as soon as possible, begin to spend his new found wealth in the comfortable surroundings of London. However, Evy had wanted to delay things for a month. She felt obliged to help the new curator settle in at the museum of antiquities, and even though it meant her wedding to O'Connell was delayed, as they'd decide to get married in England, she was determined. As Jonathan already knew, and as O'Connell was finding out, once Evy made up her mind over something there was no changing it. He smiled as he remembered the obstinate look on her face as she'd refused to be talked out of her decision to stay in Egypt a little bit longer. So now Evy spent her days at the museum, usually with O'Connell in tow while Jonathan spent his day in bed with the shutters closed sleeping off a hang over from the night before. The three of them only tended to see each other when they met for dinner and once that was over they went their separate ways. Evy and O'Connell out for a moonlight stroll and Jonathan off to drown his sorrows in a cheap back alley bar somewhere. When he thought about it Jonathan felt a little ashamed of himself for resenting, even if it was just a little, Evy's happiness. Of course Evy was always telling him he was selfish and needed to grow up and it seemed as if she'd been right. 

Jonathan paused and looked about himself and was surprised to see that he'd taken a wrong turning somehow on his journey. Instead of being nearly at journeys end he was in a less than salubrious part of the city. This was an area that even the locals tended to avoid and foreigners should certainly never venture in to. He stood for a moment and thoughtfully chewed his bottom lip. If he turned back he would waste at least half an hour walking back to the right path, but if he carried on he'd be back in the safer area of the city in half a mile or so, and in his bed in twenty minutes. It seemed to make more sense to carry on after all he'd been fine so far and a quick surreptitious look around confirmed his belief that he was alone. Besides he thought to himself he had just returned from facing Imhotep, various mummy warriors and those vicious scarabs. At the thought of the latter Jonathan unconsciously rubbed at the wound on his shoulder where O'Connell had had to cut one of the beastly things out from under his skin while Ardeth Bey had held him still. He shuddered at the memory and tried to think of something other than his time fighting evil and saving the world. Although he wouldn't admit it one of the reasons Jonathan spent this nights drinking was that it meant he didn't have to have the nightmares that plagued his sleep otherwise.

Suddenly a noise behind him startled Jonathan out of his thoughts. He stopped and frowning turned to peer into the darkness of the streets and alleyways behind him. He could see nothing but he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as he got the feeling that he was being watched by unseen eyes. Hoping it was just a case of paranoia brought on by recent events he turned and walked on, a little faster than before. However, Jonathan was unable to shake the feeling of being watched and found himself glancing behind himself every few steps. Then he heard it, that was definitely the sound of a booted footstep off to his left enshrouded in the impenetrable darkness the alleyway there. Peering into the darkness Jonathan tried to sound unafraid and confident as he asked,

"Who's there? Look I know someone's there and this isn't funny…if you think you're scaring me you're mistaken and it would be best for you if you left right now."

Jonathan winced to himself as his voice wavered a little at the last. However, he forgot that when he heard a low laugh coming out of the shadows followed by a sharp whistle. Jonathan stumbled backwards and felt his heart thud in his chest as he knocked into a solid body that had seemed to appear out of thin air behind him. Before he had the chance to jump away or shout out he felt a large knife press against his throat and an equally large hand clamp over his mouth. 


	2. Alone Chapter 2

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of the Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone – Chapter 2.

Jonathan felt the sharp, metal tip of the knife press into the soft skin of his throat; the unspoken threat broadcasted loud and clear. He winced as he felt a slight increase in the pressure of the blade from the man who held him, which meant that it cut into his flesh. A thin dribble of warm blood ran down his neck to be soaked into the collar of his shirt. Jonathan desperately put his right hand up to grab onto the arm of the man, trying to arrest any further forward momentum of the knife. For a second he expected to feel the blade slice through his throat like a warm knife through butter. He wouldn't be the first foreigner to have wondered into the wrong part of Cairo and to have ended up lying in a gutter, robbed with his throat cut. In fact such a fate would have appealed to Jonathan's sense of humour if it weren't for the harsh reality of the situation, to have survived the supernatural perils of Hamunaptra only to fall victim to street robbers. Then much to his relief he felt the pressure of the knife lesson. It was still held to his throat, but it was no longer drawing blood. The man who held him began to pull him backwards and with no choice Jonathan let himself be dragged along.

As he was dragged back into the darkness of the nearest alleyway Jonathan became aware of another man following them. He supposed it was the mysterious figure that had whistled out of the shadows to signal for his capture. However, for the moment the other man stayed out of his sight just off to the left, the grip the first man had on him prevented Jonathan from turning his head to look. Just then the man holding him stopped and the knife disappeared from Jonathan's throat. He could feel the man reaching behind himself, the sound of fingers scrabbling against a wooden latch. Jonathan realised that he was going to be taken in off the street, into some sort of building and he had the sense to know that that was not a good thing. At least out here on the street there was a chance that someone might come along and rescue him, or at least scare his attackers off. It was also possible that he'd be able to slip out of his captor's grasp and get away, but he didn't think that would be a possibility if he found himself in an enclosed space with the two men. So Jonathan tried to seize his chance when he felt the hand covering his mouth relax slightly. He managed to open his mouth and bite down on the man's fingers as hard as he could. Jonathan tried to ignore the disgust he felt at the thought of the stinking, obviously dirty, flesh in his mouth, and then the taste of the other man's blood as he broke the skin. The effect was immediate, the man holding him howled in pain and let him go, thrusting Jonathan away from himself unbalancing him slightly. Jonathan didn't need an invitation, he whirled away for his attacker, but just as he steadied himself and prepared to run he felt a jarring blow to his head. It seemed that the second, unseen man carried a weapon or stick of some kind that he used to smack Jonathan in the side of his head. The blow stunned Jonathan making him feel nauseous, his whole world seemed to be spinning around him, out of control. He knew he had to get away and that this would be his only chance but his legs refused to obey him. They wobbled under him and he felt himself fall heavily against the wall, and slowly slide down to the ground. Jonathan could hear his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps as he tried to remain conscious, his vision rapidly greying around the edges. As if from a distance he could hear someone cursing in Arabic and then a second voice barking out sharp commands for silence. That second voice seemed vaguely familiar to Jonathan but he couldn't grab hold of the thought in his brain, it skipped away like just about every other coherent thought in there. His eyesight was blurred but he was aware of a large figure bending over him, hands roughly grabbing onto him and pulling him upright. Before his consciousness finally fled Jonathan felt himself being lifted up and hoisted over someone's shoulder like a sack of grain.

The next thing Jonathan was aware of was someone slapping his face, none too gently either. With a grunt he pulled his face away and immediately had to swallow down the bitter sting of bile as it rose up in his throat. He groaned and winced as the sound sent waves of pain through his head. A harsh voice sounded from above him as he felt himself slapped again,

"Come on open your eyes I know you're awake Carnahan!"

Damn, Jonathan recognised that voice James Holden. Jonathan had fleeced Holden out of some cash during a game of poker a couple of days before he'd met O'Connell. Admittedly Jonathan had bent the rules a little to ensure he'd won but he'd done it to teach Holden a lesson as much as to get his hands on his money. Holden was renowned as a bad loser, he had an overbearing character, thinking he was so much better then everyone else, and Jonathan couldn't bare people like that and so he'd taken it upon himself to take Holden down a peg or two. He'd known that Holden had been fuming when he'd lost to Jonathan and Jonathan had known it wouldn't take him long to figure out that he'd cheated. That was how he'd met O'Connell and relieved him of the key. Jonathan had been lying low trying to keep out of Holden's way, and had met O'Connell in a bar he'd not frequented before. Now it seemed that Holden had tracked him down, and it seemed he still bore a grudge. However, in one sense Jonathan was relieved, if this had been a street robbery he would have been in uncharted waters, but he was pretty sure he'd be able to handle Holden. Slowly and carefully Jonathan opened his eyes and putting on his best, most disarming smile said,

"Hello Jamie old boy was there something you wanted?"

Upon opening his eyes Jonathan found he was in a small, dirty storeroom. There were some sacks and barrels staked up in one corner and a table and a couple of chairs off to one side of a heavy wooden door. There didn't seem to be any windows, the only light coming from an old oil lamp and several candles. The lack of ventilation made the air in the room stuffy, heavy with a smell of something rotten. Jonathan was lying on the dirt floor of the room and standing off to one side of him was a huge Egyptian. He was scowling at Jonathan and by his hastily bandaged hand Jonathan guessed this was the knife man. Just settling himself into one of the chairs by the table was Holden. He was several inches taller than Jonathan with a bigger, more thickset build. He was in his forties, his black hair beginning to grey at the temples and thin out on the top. He always seemed to have a permanent sneer on his face that was evident now as he looked at Jonathan as he lay on the floor. Not wanting to be in a position where Holden could look down on him literally, Jonathan began to push himself upright,

"Ah, ah, ah Carnahan I think I prefer you down there where you belong." Holden sneered.

With one hand he signaled his accomplice and before he could avoid it Jonathan gasped in pain as the Egyptian gave him a kick to his stomach. Jonathan spent the next minute or two concentrating on merely getting oxygen into his winded body, while he lay curled up on himself. Finally able to talk again he didn't make the mistake of trying to get up again, but he looked over to Holden and prayed he could talk his way out of this.

"Look Jamie I can tell you're a little upset, but if this is about the money I can pay you back. I've been lucky and ah…come into a bit of a windfall so…" 

Jonathan didn't get any further before Holden interrupted him,

"Shut up!" He shouted, his voice sounding vicious. "Do you really think this is about the money? Damn the money I don't care about that. This is about you making me look like a fool, you cheated me in front of half of Cairo, made me a laughing stock, you didn't think I was going to let you get away with that did you?"

Beginning to get seriously worried about the situation now Jonathan tried once more to placate the furious man in front of him,

"I'm sure no one was…" Once again Holden didn't let him get any further.

"I don't want to hear it Carnahan. I've been waiting for this moment, I didn't think I'd get the chance when you disappeared off into the desert, but you made the mistake of coming back here. Now you're mine, and now I'm going to make you pay, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it." 


	3. Alone Chapter 3

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone - Chapter 3.

Jonathan's mind was in a whirl he could see that this situation had the potential to get out of hand very quickly. He knew that Holden was known as having a filthy and very volatile temper, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. Trying once again to be reasonable he said,

"Look Jamie I can see I've really upset you and I'm sorry for that, but I'm sure we can come to an…um…an amicable arrangement. We're both English gentlemen after all and…"

Here Jonathan was interrupted by a burst of laughter from Holden,

"You Carnahan a gentleman, you don't know the meaning of the word. You're nothing but a cheat and a thief and you're finally going to get what you deserve!"

Now despite his growing apprehension Jonathan felt rather aggrieved, true he'd sailed rather close to the wind sometimes, but only ever out of necessity and never with any intentional malice. While keeping a wary eye on Holden's Egyptian side-kick Jonathan pulled himself into a sitting position and was quite proud at the amount of wounded pride the tone of his voice managed to communicate,

"I say that's uncalled for you're not exactly whiter than white yourself James."

Holden leaned forward in his chair his eyes staring into Jonathan's, smirking as he replied,

"Ah, but we're not here to discuss me are we? Oh and since you brought it up I'd rather you didn't call yourself an English gentleman, everyone knows that you and that sister of yours are only half-breeds. Your father went native didn't he and got himself some Egyptian whore…"

At those words Jonathan felt a flare of anger burn through him, it was an old taunt one that had gotten him into numerous fights as a boy, one that he'd never let Evy hear knowing she'd have been devastated by it. Forgetting about the huge Egyptian standing only a few feet away Jonathan surged up from the floor,

"How dare you… you take that back or I swear…"

He got no further as he felt two strong arms envelope him from behind completely bringing him to a stand still, and although he fought and kicked back with his feet it was no use he was held fast.

"Tut, tut, tut Carnahan temper, temper. You see there it is that native blood in you making you hot-headed." 

Holden said smiling a cold smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. He went on ignoring Jonathan's struggles,

"You know I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you stumbling half drunk down the street earlier. I was here to carry out a bit of business and there you were, it was like a gift from on high. I just had to follow you until you came to this little place of mine here, I…ah keep it for emergencies, never know when you might need a bolt hole eh." He explained.

Having exhausted himself in his fruitless struggling Jonathan quieted down and listened to Holden. The hope he'd had that he'd be able to talk his way out of this quickly fading, and he found a growing sense of foreboding as he looked at the flushed face of his captor.

Standing up Holden approached Jonathan and only stopped when his face was mere inches from his.

"Do you know what the beauty of this place is hmm…no one asks questions and no one noses into anyone else's business. So you can make as much noise as you like Carnahan and no one will care, and no one will come to help you."

Puzzled and suddenly very afraid Jonathan winced as his voice faltered when he asked,

"What…what do you mean…what…are you talking about?"

Jonathan flinched backwards unable to move very far because of the solid body directly behind him when Holden reached out one hand and very slowly and gently stroked it down the side of his face, from his brow to his chin. Before he could ask Holden just what he thought he was doing he hissed in pain when Holden's touch became harsh and bruising. Holden grabbed hold of Jonathan's chin in a punishing grip, and Jonathan was sure he could actually feel the finger tip bruises that would be sure to be left there already forming on his skin. Holding his face absolutely still Holden leaned in even further until Jonathan could feel his warm breath as it brushed against his lips, and for one insane moment Jonathan actually thought Holden was going to kiss him. Instead he whispered,

"Time to pay the piper now Carnahan. You've been a very naughty boy and now you have to be punished…and remember you can make as much noise as you want…you can scream as much as you want and no one will care and no one will come and help you." 

Holden suddenly let go of Jonathan's chin and moved back, and Jonathan was surprised to find that he'd been holding his breath. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm down he could feel his heart wildly thumping in his chest as he asked,

"What are you going to do?"

Holden had moved back to the table and when he turned to face Jonathan he was holding a cane in his right hand. It was probably what he'd used to hit Jonathan with outside when he'd tried to get away,

"I told you, teach you a lesson you're never going to forget."

Holden barked some commands to his accomplice in Arabic too quickly for Jonathan to follow what was said. However, he got the gist of it when he felt his hands roughly pulled behind his back and quickly tied tightly with some kind of thin rope or cord. Then he was pushed over to the table where Holden was waiting. Smiling Holden said,

"Time to bend over and take your punishment like a man."

Then he tapped his cane against the tabletop making it perfectly clear just what the punishment was going to comprise of. Shaking his head not quite believing that Holden could possible mean it Jonathan said,

"No…no you wouldn't dare. You can't be serious…you can't do this to me."

"Oh I can and I will…and this is just the beginning, I've got lots planned for you Carnahan or maybe I should call you Jonathan eh…or Jonny would you like that? You see I've been thinking about this…about you for quite a while now, and now that I've got you here…well I'm just going to make the most of it." 

Before Jonathan could reply, before he could ask Holden what he was talking about, he saw him nod at the man behind him who still had a firm grip on his shoulders and he felt himself pushed forward again. He was stopped by the edge of the table that cut painfully into his stomach at waist level. Jonathan felt a large, powerful hand grab him by the scruff of his neck and he felt his head being forced downwards. He tried to resist but the man behind him was far too strong for him and suddenly his head went forward and he felt it smash painfully into the tabletop. Jonathan was stunned for a moment as his head turned to one side, and the hand that remained holding onto the back of his neck was joined by another pinning him down to the table's surface by pressing down in the middle of his back. He gasped in some ragged breaths as he tried to re-orientate himself, the buzzing in his head subsided and suddenly Jonathan was aware of a body pressed up against him from behind and arms reaching around to his front. Fingers had managed to undo the buttons that fastened his braces onto the front of his trousers and were now fumbling with the fastening at the front of the trousers themselves. He felt the buttons undone and hands, Holden's hands, pulling at the waistband of his trousers trying to tug them down. Despite being pressed down into the table Jonathan managed to cry out,

"No!"

He desperately kicked back with his feet, but unable to get any real strength behind the kick he knew he hadn't done much damage when he felt his foot connect with Holden's leg. 

"That's enough of that." Holden said.

The kick which he then aimed at Jonathan's left leg sent a spike of excruciating pain shooting up Jonathan's leg into his hip and left him gasping. As he fought his way through this agony Jonathan felt a huge wave of humiliation rush through him as he felt cold air stir against his bare skin as Holden succeeded in pulling down his trousers and underwear. He felt the clothes pushed down to his ankles and then he felt disgust well up inside him as he felt Holden's hand come to rest on his naked lower back. It seemed to Jonathan that the heat from Holden's touch was burning a mark straight into his flesh, and he had to swallow down the acid burn of bile as it rose up into his throat as Holden stroked his finger tips almost possessively down over Jonathan's buttocks. Jonathan couldn't keep the growing panic he felt from his voice as he angrily shouted,

"Don't touch me…get your filthy hands off me!"

Holden's only response was to laugh at Jonathan's growing distress. The relief he felt when that disgusting touch left him was short lived when he heard a whoosh of an object moving quickly through the air and then he felt a stinging bite of pain as Holden's cane connected with his backside. He barely had time to register this first blow before another and another followed it. Jonathan squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he tried unsuccessfully to prevent the bitter sting of tears from escaping from the corners of his eyes. He bit into his lip as he tried to muffle the sounds of his suffering that wanted to escape from his throat. He tasted blood in his mouth as his teeth broke the sensitive skin of his lower lip and he re-doubled his efforts to keep silent, not wanting to give Holden the satisfaction Jonathan was sure he'd feel at hearing him cry out. Jonathan felt himself jump with each blow, with no two blows seeming to come down in the same place. Holden was spreading them out from Jonathan's lower back, down over his buttocks and even down the backs of his thighs to his knees. Holden seemed to be well practiced at this form of punishment, his blows were hard enough to cause suffering and bruise the skin raising a painful welt but he was restrained enough not to break the skin, and not to give his victim the escape of unconsciousness. After the twelfth blow Jonathan stopped keeping count and found that as much as he tried he was unable to keep his suffering to himself anymore. Each blow so quickly followed the one preceding it that the burning, stinging pain from each blow merged into the one before it and then into the one that followed it. Jonathan's first yelp of pain seemed to encourage Holden and the beating intensified. Finally Jonathan couldn't restrain himself anymore and he heard himself scream in agony at a harsh blow from the cane which criss-crossed an earlier strike and caused the welt that had already formed there to double the flare of severe pain he felt. It seemed to Jonathan that once that first scream had left his mouth that he was unable to stop anymore from doing the same, and soon his throat began to burn from the torture it was being made to vocalize. He wasn't sure how much time had passed; it seemed like an eternity, but finally Holden stopped. Over his own broken sobs Jonathan could hear Holden's exhausted, ragged breathing as he stepped away from him and admired his handy work.

Jonathan could feel Holden's eyes raking over his beaten body as surely as if he could see them, and he could feel his body begin to tremble with shock at the suffering he had endured. At an unseen, unheard signal the Egyptian man holding Jonathan down suddenly released him and stepped back. Jonathan had no strength left in him, and he couldn't prevent his legs from giving out on him as he slid from the table and ended up in a heap on the floor. He could hear his own harsh, hitching breathing as he tried to bring his sobbing under control, but he couldn't stop him self from whimpering softly when he heard Holden move towards him and say,

"Now that you've gotten me warmed up Jonny we can start to have some real fun together." 


	4. Alone Chapter 4

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone – Chapter 4. 

Jonathan could hear Holden getting nearer and wanted to move, to put as much distance between himself and his tormentor as possible. However, when he tried to get up he found he had no strength left in his beaten body. He could hear Holden's cruel laughter as he watched Jonathan's futile attempts. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to regain some kind of control over his body. He was shaking; not only in shock but also from the deep sobs that still rose up from his chest and which he couldn't seem to stop. His heart was beating wildly and he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. His lower back, backside and thighs felt as if they were on fire, a non-stop source of agony that came in waves throbbing in time to his rapid heartbeat. Jonathan had been in fights before, although he much preferred to talk his way out of trouble, and usually could; he had been on the wrong end of the occasional fist. He had even been beaten once, with a belt by his father when he was twelve and his father had caught him gambling. Of course his father only managed to strike him half a dozen times before he'd stopped thrown the belt away and had hugged a shocked Jonathan in tears promising never to do it again. However, none of those events could have prepared him for this. It wasn't only the pain, though that was bad enough, it was the complete and utter humiliation he felt. He had been powerless, held down by Holden's huge Egyptian servant and then striped and beaten like a child. Underlying that of course was the ugly suspicion Jonathan had that Holden had actually enjoyed it. Jonathan wasn't naïve, he knew there were those who got gratification from inflicting pain on others and it seemed pretty obvious that Holden was one of these people, but Jonathan was afraid that there was more to Holden than just a sadistic streak. His words that promised this was just the beginning that now they could "…start to have some real fun together" terrified Jonathan, as did the memory of Holden's possessive touch before the beating had begun. 

Suddenly Jonathan was aware of Holden's close proximity. He had stepped close to Jonathan and dropped down onto his haunches next to him. With one hand Holden reached out and gently smoothed Jonathan's hair back. Jonathan tried to be strong, to show no reaction but he couldn't prevent himself from flinching away from that poisonous touch. This only made Holden chuckle and he trailed his fingers down over Jonathan's face feeling his tears and delighting in the sensation,

"Aw poor baby did that hurt hmm? Never mind it won't seem so bad in a minute…I've got something especially for you that's going to help take your mind off that."

Jonathan steeled himself and then opened his eyes. Looking into that cruel, sneering face he asked the question that was burning in his mind. He thought he'd already guessed the answer and was terrified he was correct,

"What…what are you going…to do now?"

"Oh I told you I've been thinking about you didn't I Jonny. Well you'd be surprised I bet at just what I've been thinking about you. You know how it is I'm sure…dark, lonely nights only yourself and your imagination for company hmm." Holden smirked and leaned down even closer to Jonathan as he spoke. "A little self-pleasuring shall we say…you know how it is when one gets the urge…and guess who it is I've been thinking about lately while I've been indulging myself. Can you guess Jonny? Oh I'm going to enjoy this…get to act out my fantasies. Of course you won't enjoy it quite so much as me I'm sure, but that's not really the point is it eh. Oh and remember you can scream as loudly as you like Jonny…and I intend to make you scream."

With one final cold smile Holden straightened up and barked out some orders to his accomplice. Jonathan felt a huge hand grab his hair and another one grab his shoulder as he was unceremoniously heaved up from the floor. He tried and failed to get his feet under him and was dragged around and again bent over the table his face pressed down into its wooden surface.

Jonathan could feel the air behind him stir as Holden moved in to stand directly behind him. Holden's hand reached out and came to rest against Jonathan's backside. He slowly rubbed along several of the welts that the beating had left there, causing pain to flare up sharply, making Jonathan gasp. In a quiet voice, almost so quiet Jonathan had to strain to hear what he said, he whispered,

"Your skin bruises beautifully Jonny. You look absolutely delicious."

Jonathan was gripped by panic and although it was agony to move he tried to struggle, to wriggle out from under that powerful grip that held him face down in this humiliating and vulnerable position. Although he knew that it would do him no good he tried to appeal to Holden,

"Come on now James you don't want to do something you're gonna regret later. This hasn't gone too far yet…alright you've…umm…you've punished me and fair enough I was wrong to cheat you I admit that. Not this though…James you can't do this. I don't…I don't want this…if you do this it'll be against my will…it'll be…um…it'll be…"

Jonathan started when he felt Holden lean over him, draping his body over Jonathan's, his mouth down by Jonathan's ear as he said the word that Jonathan couldn't bring himself to articulate,

"Rape Jonny…is that the word you're looking for."

With that his tongue flicked out, like a serpent's, and licked the top of Jonathan's ear making him shudder in disgust and fear.

"Christ James you can't…you can't be serious." Jonathan stuttered.

"Oh I'm serious Jonny just feel how serious I am." Holden said.

With that he rubbed himself against Jonathan's body. Jonathan hissed in pain as the rough material of Holden's clothes brushed against his sensitive bruised and abused flesh.

"See what you do to me Jonny." Holden told him.

Jonathan felt Holden push his pelvis up against his buttocks and obscenely rub himself firmly against him. Jonathan felt bile rise up in his throat when he felt Holden's erection pressed against him.

Jonathan shivered when suddenly Holden moved away from him and the burning heat of the other man's body draped on top of his was gone. However, his reprieve was short lived when he heard a sound like Holden spitting and then felt his spit slickened fingers brush against his buttocks. Jonathan heard a whimper of fear escape from his mouth as Holden's fingers dipped into the cleft there and probed for the hidden entrance to his body. He tried to squirm away but felt the grip on him tighten and the large man holding him down pressed more of his weight down on Jonathan, successfully pinning him down even more. Jonathan stilled holding his breath, every muscle in his body clenched tight in preparation for the violation he knew was about to occur when he felt Holden stroke his fingers against his anus.

"If you relax Jonny you never know you might even enjoy this." Holden told him, his excitement evident in his mocking voice.

Then with no warning he stabbed into Jonathan's unwilling body with a finger. Jonathan cried out at the sharp burning pain he felt lance through his body. Holden pushed his finger in as far as it would go and left it there not moving, not speaking. Jonathan could hear his own breathing, harsh and loud to his ears. Every sensation was heightened by his fear. The weight of the man standing over him, immobilizing him, the fetid stench of his breath. The feel of the cold wooden surface of the table against his face, the sharp edge of it cutting into his stomach. The intrusion of Holden's finger in his body and the creeping terror that soon it would be something else. Something that would rip into him tearing apart his body and soul and changing him forever.


	5. Alone Chapter 5

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone – Chapter 5.

Jonathan's head was spinning, this couldn't be real, surely he was experiencing some horribly intense nightmare. He heard his own voice as he whimpered in fear as Holden suddenly pulled his finger from his body and stepped back. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut wishing he would wake up, wishing himself away from here, desperate to somehow prevent the abomination he knew was inevitable. He bit into his lower lip causing more blood to trickle slowly down his chin, as he tried not to vocalize his terror when he heard the rustle of clothing being removed coming from behind him. He didn't want to beg, he didn't want to give Holden the satisfaction, but he couldn't stop himself, the words spilling from his lips,

"Pl…pl…please J…James…please don't. I'm s…sorry, I'm sorry…but don't do this…please."

Holden didn't answer and Jonathan could feel tears running down his face and hear the sobs that were hitching in his chest. He started, his heart jumping into his throat as he suddenly felt hands pushing his shirt up and nails being raked down his back to his buttocks. Then the polluting touch stroked down over his abused flesh and Jonathan knew that whatever he did he would never be able to wash away the filth that those hands were leaving behind on his body. The harsh and brutal grasp of Holden's servant prevented Jonathan from moving away, but still he tried unsuccessfully to squirm away, much to Holden's amusement. Jonathan felt ill when he heard Holden's quiet, mirthless chuckle. Desperate Jonathan sobbed,

"Don't…don't touch me…please don't."

Holden gripped Jonathan's hips his nails digging cruelly into his flesh as he pressed his body against Jonathan. The warm flesh burned Jonathan and he could feel his entire body tense in fear as he felt Holden's naked erection pressed against his backside. Holden draped himself over Jonathan and whispered huskily,

"Oh Jonny don't worry I'm going to touch you as much as I like, and I'm going to touch you in places you've never been touched before."

Jonathan felt himself jump when Holden pulled back and he felt the man's spit slickened fingers once again probing to gain entrance to his body. Despite his best efforts to keep him out Holden merely forced first one and then two fingers into him, not caring how much pain he was causing. It was a pain that stole Jonathan's breath away for a moment, a sharp burning that he knew was only going to get much worse. Not content this time just to have breached Jonathan's body Holden began to move his fingers, pulling them back an inch or two before brutally plunging them back inside him. Jonathan could hear Holden's breath begin to come in excited pants and then he began to murmur,

"Oh yes…oh Jonny this is going to be so good. You're so tight…so hot."

Without even realizing he was doing it Jonathan began to chant a near silent litany of his own,

"No, no, please, no, no please…"

Suddenly the invading fingers were pulled from inside him and before he had a chance to realise what Holden was going to do next he felt his entire world explode in white hot agony as Holden thrust his erection into him. To Jonathan it felt as if he was being torn apart, the agonizing burning, tearing pain consuming him from the inside out. Holden paused for a moment after that first thrust and Jonathan could hear his own scream echoing in his ears. However, Holden didn't wait for long, he merely gripped Jonathan's hips even harder, and with a brutal grunt of effort thrust himself all the way into Jonathan's unwilling body. Again Jonathan screamed, the pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. The bite of the scarab, the feel of it burrowing under his flesh, the slash of O'Connell's knife was nothing compared to this. He could hear a loud buzzing in his ears and his vision grayed at the edges, and for one hopeful moment Jonathan actually thought he was going to pass out from the pain. Unfortunately he wasn't going to be that lucky.

For a moment though they remain like that unmoving. Jonathan held down over the table by the huge, strong Egyptian and Holden buried deep inside him. The silence was only broken by the sound of the three men's breathing. For Jonathan the moment seemed to stretch on for an eternity. The feel of Holden's body pressed tightly up against him, the feel of the large hand that was holding him down on his back that began to stroke it's clumsy, large fingers over his skin. Then he felt Holden's nails once more cut ten half moons into the flesh of his hips as he began to move inside him. Every thrust was a burning agony and Jonathan couldn't stop himself from screaming. His cry's seemed to excite Holden even more and he began to thrust faster, harder and deeper into Jonathan. Suddenly Jonathan could feel something warm running down the insides of his thighs and he realised with a horrified shudder that it was his blood. He'd known there would be blood, he'd felt the tissues deep inside his body being ripped and torn by Holden's brutality but he felt bile rise up burning his throat at the thought of it. As Jonathan's screams began to become pained groans of agony so Holden's grunts began to be formed into words,

"Oh yeah Jonny…so good…so tight…so hot…I knew you'd be so good…"

Jonathan tried to blot his voice out knowing that he'd be hearing it in his nightmares for the rest of his life. It seemed to Jonathan that his torture was never going to end. Holden stabbing deeply into him, driving him into the rough wooden table under him, the warm hand of Holden's servant becoming bolder and harsher in it's touches. Then just when he was convinced he'd be trapped in this hell for eternity he felt Holden still for a moment then thrust deeply into him grunting out his obscene pleasure as he released his cum into Jonathan.

As Holden fell over his back, his weight suffocating Jonathan, Jonathan knew he'd never be able to rid his soul of this stain. The tears ran down his face as he sobbed out his misery. He didn't move or react when Holden finally lifted himself up and pulled his now flaccid penis from his bloody body.

Holden came to stand next to him and leaning froward he grabbed Jonathan's hair, pulling his head up from the table, and bringing his face down next to Jonathan's he smiled as he said,

"Oh Jonny was it good for you too hmmm? Now that's one of my fantasies taken care of and it was just as good as I knew it would be. Do you know what else I fantasized about on those dark nights…hmm Jonny…Well not only was it my fantasy to fuck you but to watch you get fucked…so shall we let Hanif have his turn hmm…I think he's looking forward to it."

With that Holden laughed and Jonathan wished he could die.


	6. Alone Chapter 6

Disclaimers: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 6.

Jonathan tried to detach himself from his body. He tried to will himself away from that hot, claustrophobic room, away from the pain and humiliation he felt. In his mind he tried desperately to find something, anything, to latch onto so that he could escape from the present. In his mind he jumped from one memory to another, as the events in that room broke through each carefully constructed memory. He'd been lost in his fourteenth birthday, the last birthday he'd celebrated before his mother had died. His father had saved up for months and taken him and Evie and his mother to the Cairo Savoy for dinner. Jonathan had never been anywhere so sumptuous, so amazing; it had been like entering a different world. He'd just been remembering the look of joy on his mother's face when Hanif had brutally thrust his way into him. The agonizing pain, the feeling of being rendered apart, ripping him away from his dream. Desperately trying to escape again, not wanting to feel his body being roughly taken, not wanting to hear Hanif's grunts or his own cries of pain and desolation, not wanting to hear Holden's laughter, Jonathan cast about in his mind for another reality to grab onto. His mind took him to the time he'd tried to teach Evie to dance. It had been a warm, fragrant evening a couple of years ago, and Jonathan had been teasing her about being stuffy, caring more about her books than having fun. He'd pulled her up from her chair, ignoring her protests as he tried to teach her to waltz. She'd been hopeless; two left feet, and had stepped all over his toes, before they'd both fallen to the floor laughing. He'd just been admiring the laughter that lit up Evie's eyes when he felt the grip on his hips tighten, the pace being set by Hanif as he raped him becoming harder and faster. Jonathan reached out desperately with his mind, trying to hold onto that look in Evie's eyes, wanting to flee back into that memory, but he was mercilessly being pulled into the here and now.

Jonathan no longer screamed, his throat was raw, his voice silenced. All he could manage was a pained grunt every time his body was roughly driven into the hard, cold surface of the table. He had his eyes clamped as tightly shut as he could manage, but it wasn't tightly enough to prevent the seemingly never ending tears from leaking out and rolling down his cheeks. In between each grunt Jonathan sobbed out his misery, his loss. He did feel he was losing so much of himself, his entire being was being torn apart, and the different pieces were being scattered to the four winds, and he knew he'd never be able to find them again, he'd never be able to piece himself back together again. It made him think of the nursery rhyme his father used to sing to him when he was little. He was Humpty Dumpty, and no one would be able to put him back together again either.

After what seemed to Jonathan to be an eternity of torture he felt Hanif begin to quicken his pace, thrusting as deeply as he could, and then Jonathan felt his release. The filth that he polluted his body with spreading a dark, evil canker into every corner of his being, of his soul.

Jonathan cried out weakly at the sharp pain caused by Hanif pulling out of his body, and tried, unsuccessfully, to blot out the sound of Holden laughing and applauding their performance. No longer being held up by Hanif's strong arms Jonathan just didn't have the strength left inside himself to stay upright. He felt himself slide from the table and crumple to the floor. He could feel blood and God knows what else leaking from his broken body, as it ran warm and wet down his thighs to pool onto the floor. The smell of Hanif's unwashed body was strong in his nostrils, combined with the smell of fear and sex. Jonathan flinched at the feel of a hand on his face. God he never wanted to be touched by anyone ever again. He heard the small whimper that escaped from his lips, and cringed when Holden's voice sounded in his ear.

"Oh that was so hot Jonny. You don't know how beautiful you looked while Hanif took you. So much pain, so much despair it was delicious. Now one last thing and our perfect evening will be complete."

Finally opening his eyes to look into Holden's face Jonathan couldn't help begging him,

"Oh God…God James please no…no more. I…I can't please…please don't."

"But Jonny watching you and Hanif together…well I found it very stimulating and ah…I'm in need of a little relief you know. So this is what you're going to do. You're going to use that pretty mouth of yours for something other than lying and cheating."

Horrified at the implication of what Holden was saying Jonathan stared at him with wide, terror filled eyes. He immediately began shaking his head,

"No…no I won't…I'd rather die…you…you can't make me…I won't."

Holden grabbed onto Jonathan's shoulder with one hand, the other twisting itself into his hair, and he dragged him partially upright, causing pain to shoot through Jonathan's abdomen. The pain was so intense it stole Jonathan's breath for a moment, the world greying at the edges as it nearly pushed him into unconsciousness. However, Holden wouldn't allow him to get away so easily, and he shook him back to awareness. Desperately Jonathan reached out trying to grab onto the comforting numbness unconsciousness would bring, but found it faded away from him. Slipping through his fingers as he was brought back to the present moment.

"Oh you'll do exactly what I tell you to do, because if you don't it won't be you I'll get to suck my cock, it'll be that little sister of yours. Would you prefer that Jonny? Would you prefer I spend some quality time getting to know Evie better hmm? Don't think that American will be able to protect her either, if I want her I'll get her, I always get what I want in the end you should know that." Holden snarled.

Jonathan knew that he meant every word, and the thought that Holden would make good on his threat, that he might touch Evie terrified Jonathan. At that second he knew he was beaten, he knew that he'd do anything Holden demanded of him to spare Evie. He was her big brother it was his duty to protector her, and if that meant giving into Holden's perverted desires then that was exactly what he'd do. Besides this whole thing was his fault. If he hadn't tried to be clever, if he hadn't cheated Holden out of his money this wouldn't be happening now. He couldn't let Evie suffer for his sins. He was already lost; he'd do anything to ensure that she was protected.

"Alright…alright I'll do anything you want just…please James don't hurt her. It's me you want not Evie don't hurt her. I'll cooperate."

Pulling Jonathan to his knees Holden stroked his hand through his hair,

"Good boy Jonny I knew you'd be sensible."

Jonathan saw Holden's hand reach into his already open trousers as he prepared to pull his erection free, and closed his eyes. Once more Holden's grip tightened in his hair as he pulled Jonathan's head up,

"Look at me Jonny, open your eyes and look at me." He commanded his voice husky with lust.

Having no choice Jonathan obeyed and opened his eyes. Holden was staring right into Jonathan's eyes, his gaze never wavering as he said,

"Don't close your eyes. I want to be able to look into your eyes Jonny the entire time. You'd better do everything I tell you to or else I'll pay little Evie a visit. Do you understand?"

Unable to speak Jonathan nodded his understanding to Holden and tried to prepare himself for the horror to come.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours Jonny, and I don't want to feel any teeth." Holden told him.

Reluctantly Jonathan complied, and gagged when he felt Holden's hard flesh shoving it's way into his mouth. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, and had begun to do just that when he remembered Holden's threat to Evie, and quickly opened them again. He saw Holden smirking at him in satisfaction as he said,

"Oh good boy Jonny, see you can learn to do what your told. Now don't just sit there suck."

Unable to prevent the tears from falling from his eyes at this latest humiliation Jonathan did as he was told, and began to suck on Holden's penis. The grasp of Holden's hand in his hair tightened painfully, and Jonathan welcomed the pain. It was what he deserved, it was his punishment.

The hand in his hair kept his head still as Holden viciously raped his mouth. Jonathan was continually gagging as the hard flesh was thrust deeply into his mouth, banging into the back of his throat, bruising the delicate tissues there. All the time Holden stared into his eyes, his gaze never wavering, the lust and pleasure he was experiencing burning it's way into what little was left of Jonathan's soul. As Holden's thrusts became faster Jonathan found it increasingly difficult to breathe. He tried to pull in a ragged breath when Holden partially pulled out, but as he plunged himself back into Jonathan's mouth so quickly Jonathan found it nearly impossible, and his vision began to fade as the lack of oxygen began to take it's toll. Suddenly he heard Holden grunt loudly, and as he watched, Holden squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisting into an ugly mask. Then Jonathan felt his mouth being flooded with Holden's hot cum. Holden's erection was thrust as far down his throat as he could get it, and in an effort at self-preservation Jonathan's body took over his reactions. In an effort to clear his airway he automatically began to swallow the bitter slimy liquid that had flooded his mouth. His stomach was rebelling at what was being forced into it, and the instant Holden finally let him go and stepped back Jonathan couldn't stop himself from hunching over, and vomiting Holden's cum onto the floor.


	7. Alone Chapter 7

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Author's Notes: - This fic is still dedicated to Sheri, although I'm sure she didn't realize she was going to have to be quite as patient as she has been waiting for each new chapter. Tardiness on my part for which I can only apologize.

Alone Chapter 7.

The water had gone cold long ago, but Jonathan didn't notice. He sat in the bath tub, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, staring, unblinking into the distance, not really seeing anything around him. The only sound was the drip, drip of water from the leaky hot water tap. The only movement, the slight shivering of Jonathan's body, a combination of the cold water, and the shock his mind and body had suffered.

It was the sound of the muezzin's calling the faithful to prayer from their lofty minarets, as it echoed over the Cairo rooftops, which finally dragged Jonathan reluctantly back to reality. Realizing he was cold Jonathan glanced down at himself, seeing the goose flesh that covered his body. He also saw the bruises and scratches marking his skin, flashbacks of how he'd received them forcing their way into his mind. He bit down on his lower lip to keep the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him inside.

Looking down at the pink hued water Jonathan felt his stomach roll in disgust, and he desperately needed to move, to get out of the blood tainted water. He gripped the sides of the bath, and slowly heaved himself up and out, wincing and hissing at the pain the movement caused throughout his abused body. He stood a little unsteadily as he pulled the plug, and let the bloody water drain away. For a moment Jonathan wished he could become one with the water and let himself be carried away into oblivion, just disappear and cease to exist. Small pools of water collected around his feet as he stood on the cool tiled floor of his bathroom watching the rapidly disappearing water. Tearing away his gaze Jonathan reached for a towel to wrap himself in.

Jonathan shuffled slowly into his bedroom, glad that the shutters were closed over the windows, and the room was muted by shadow. He was exhausted, more tired than he could ever remember being before. He felt on the verge of collapse, and then quickly acknowledged the fact that that was exactly what was about to happen. His mind and body were about to shut down, unable to take anything more. So reaching out a shaking hand Jonathan pulled back his blankets, and climbed in between the cool, clean, crisp sheets of his bed. The throbbing waves of pain that came from his tortured back meant he had to lie on his side, and as he did so he slowly brought his knees up to his chest, and tried to make himself as small as possible. He pulled the blankets up around his ears, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying, and failing, to stop the tears that welled up in them from falling. Barely suppressed sobs racked his body, and Jonathan wished he could forget, but even as he prayed for amnesia unwanted memories crowded into his mind.

As soon as he'd finally managed to stop the dry heaves that had followed his nausea Jonathan had heard Holden's mocking voice laughing at his suffering,

"It's a good thing I'm such a reasonable chap Jonny, or that ungrateful display might have annoyed me, and then where would you be, hmm…I'd have to punish you again."

Jonathan hadn't been able to stop the whimper from escaping from his throat, as terror coursed through his body, at the thought of Holden inflicting any more pain or humiliation on him. For a second he'd hated himself for showing his weakness to Holden, knowing only too well how much the other man would enjoy seeing his fear, but he couldn't help himself.

Holden had just laughed at him again, and then turn to Hanif and barked out some orders in Arabic, which Jonathan's confused, pain-filled mind couldn't focus enough to understand. However, he saw Holden's servant approaching him, and the raw memory of the big Egyptian's hands on his body, of his grunting moans as he'd raped him, were enough to make Jonathan flinch, and try to drag himself backwards away from him. In a couple of strides though Hanif was upon him, and his large hands reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him up to his feet, and he was grinning in Jonathan's face. Jonathan closed his eyes and turned his face away, the man's fetid breath warm against his skin threatening to start another round of sickness in him. Not sure what to expect next Jonathan had been surprised, but also flooded with relief, to feel his underwear and trousers being pulled back up. Then Hanif spun him around, and held him in place with a strong, bruising grip on his shoulders. Jonathan's eyes were still squeezed shut, but a hard slap to his face, that made his ears ring with it's force, snapped his eyes open again, and he found himself face to face with James Holden. He tried to pull away from his tormentor, but the solid presence of Hanif's large body behind him prevented any escape, and besides the thought of being pressed up against the Egyptian's body revolted him. So despite his body's need to distance himself from Holden he was forced to stand his ground. However, he found himself unable to meet Holden's eye and he was staring down at the dirt floor of the tiny room. Of course that hadn't been good enough for Holden, and he'd reached out and grasped Jonathan's chin, pulling his head up so that he'd had no choice but to look into Holden's face.

"Ah that's better, no need to sulk Jonny…you got what you deserved. Maybe next time you'll think before you cheat someone hmmm?" Holden said to him. Then he leaned in even closer, and Jonathan felt his warm breath caress his cheek as he continued, "It was as good as I knew it would be…you don't know how often I'd dreamed of sharing all that with you Jonny. You belong to me now, and I'll see you again soon so we can share some more good times together."

Jonathan's eyes had widened in horror at Holden's words, the implication of what he'd just been told causing a surge of pure terror to go through him. Shaking his head he gasped,

"No…God no…"

Interrupting him, pulling his head back so that he could smirk into Jonathan's face, Holden told him,

"Oh yes Jonny…now I've had a taste of your delicious body I can see I'm going to become addicted. Of course I could always see what your little sister tastes like…I wonder if she'd be so sweet."

Knowing he had to keep Evy as far away from Holden as he could, knowing he couldn't bear to think of that animal touching her, Jonathan begged Holden,

"Please no don't…don't hurt her."

"Oh I won't Jonny, I won't touch one hair on her head as long as you're a good boy. Oh, and don't think about telling anybody about our little party. If you do I'll have a dozen witnesses who'll swear that I was with them all night long, and then you'll find out just how annoyed I can be…understand?"

Reluctantly, feeling trapped, Jonathan nodded.

"Good boy." Holden said with a smile as he reached out and tapped Jonathan's cheek in a strangely affectionate gesture. "Now I think it's time for you to go home…and don't worry I'll be seeing you soon Jonny."

Then Jonathan had found himself out in the dark night once more, and after a moments hesitation he'd stumbled away as fast as he could. He wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to get back to his room. His mind had been in a whirl of confusion, and he'd been surprised to find himself at his own door. However, it had been a relief to be able to lock the door behind himself, and he'd quickly stripped off his torn, blood-stained clothes, and had ran himself a bath, needing to be clean.

Now as he lay curled up in his bed, shivering, Jonathan realised that he'd been fooling himself, because he'd never be clean again. He was tainted, every fiber of his being soiled, and Jonathan knew he couldn't tell anyone what had happened to him, he was completely alone. Then the realisation that Holden would come for him again, and there was nothing he could do to stop him, meant that Jonathan could no longer suppress his sobs, and burying his face in his pillow he cried out his misery until, exhausted, he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	8. Alone Chapter 8

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 8

When Jonathan awoke the sunlight that filtered in through the closed blinds cast long shadows across the floor, and he guessed it was late afternoon. He felt exhausted; splintered images and sounds from his ordeal had disturbed his sleep. Everytime he startled awake he would feel his heart thudding against his rib-cage, his body shaking, sweat and tears merging on his face. After a moment's panicked disorientation he would suddenly remember where he was, that he was safe, for the moment at least, and he'd burrow his head under his bedclothes and close his eyes again. He wished for a deep, dreamless sleep, one that would heal him, help him forget, but time after time the nightmares returned.

After waking up this time, sure that he could feel those loathsome hands wandering over his flesh, Jonathan didn't try to go back to sleep. Instead he lay perfectly still, his mind a blank, shock making his thought processes slow and cumbersome. He stared unblinking into the middle distance watching minute motes of dust as the shafts of sunlight caught them as they danced through the air. He didn't feel the tiny tremors that constantly racked his abused body, and his mind refused to acknowledge the dull aching pain that radiated out from his back, and backside, with every beat of his heart.

Inside Jonathan was empty. He'd cried so hard and so long that there was just a huge gaping emptiness inside him. It was as if someone had scooped out all his insides, his soul, and left him with nothing. Not that he minded. The black emptiness, while bleak, was in it's own way comforting. It was so easy to sink into it, to embrace it, and let it smoother him. In here he didn't have to think, he didn't have to remember, he could just -- be. He didn't have to be Jonathan Carnahan anymore, he didn't have to be Evy's big brother anymore, and he certainly didn't have to be Jonny anymore. Inside the blackness he was nothing, and nobody could touch him, or hurt him again. Jonathan liked that thought so he let himself sink deeper into the dark.

When, several hours later, there was a quick light knock on his door Jonathan didn't hear it. Nor did he hear Evy's voice calling out his name, or the way the doorknob rattled as she tried to turn it.

Jonathan had retreated so far that his listless gaze even failed to register the dancing dust motes anymore. Neither did he realise that the trembling of his body had become a much more pronounced shivering, and that the chill his body felt was incongruous with the flush of heat on his pale face, or the beads of sweat that had settled on his brow. The throbbing pain encompassed his whole body now, and had been joined by an echoing ache in his head, as the fever that had begun to rage inside him took hold.

Ten minutes after Evy's increasingly worried calls had stopped the quiet of the room was shattered by O'Connell's heavier thuds on the wooden door and his calls for Jonathan to,

"Get your lazy ass out of bed and open the door Jonathan, you're scaring Evy."

When that failed Evy's entreaties meant that the door to Jonathan's room was made short work of by O'Connell's shoulder. After several loud thuds it gave way, and O'Connell spilled into Jonathan's room nearly ending up in a heap on the floor.

A brief expression of hurt crossed Rick's face as Evy ran right past him, and his sore shoulder, and made straight for her brother's bed. Pursing his lips, and trying to sound concerned rather than annoyed, he asked her,

"What's wrong…is he passed out?"

Evy didn't answer him as she looked down at her brother's face. His eyes were open, but he was just staring into space, and hadn't given any sign that he knew they were in the room. She could see the flush of fever on his face and moved forward as she quickly said over her shoulder,

"No, no he's ill." Returning her attention to her brother she continued. "Jonathan what's wrong, don't you feel well?"

Her concerning spiking within her as she got no response, she knelt down by the head of the bed, and reached out to smooth several sweat soaked strands of hair away from Jonathan's forehead. The half-light in the room made it hard to see, and she was grateful when Rick pulled open the blinds, and mumbling about the room being stuffy he opened a window too.

The moment her hand touched Jonathan's skin, and she felt the heat there, Evy knew this was serious,

"He needs a doctor."

Rick came and stood behind her, his brow wrinkling with concern when he saw Jonathan's flushed face, and sightless stare.

"Hey Jonathan what's wrong? Come on say something." He tried to cajole the other man into answering.

Evy crouched down lower so that her eyes were looking directly into Jonathan's. She was startled by the dullness she saw there. It was as if all the inner light that her wayward brother had always had shining out of his eyes had been snuffed out. Slipping one hand under his head and placing the other on his cheek she turned his face slightly so that they were facing each other,

"Talk to me Jonathan please…you're…you're frightening me." Turning back to look up at Rick she said,

"He's burning up."

Jonathan's lack of response, and the fear he saw on the face of the usually resilient Evy, made Rick's worry become more acute. Straightening up he said,

"Let's try and cool him down a little, then I'll send for a doctor okay." Evy's frightened face looked up at him, and he reached down and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze of reassurance. "It'll be alright."

Intending to cool Jonathan down a little Rick reached out to pull the bedclothes down. As his hand approached the sheet he could feel the heat rising off the other man's skin in waves, and the sheet itself was soaked in sweat and sticking to Jonathan's body. As he pulled it back O'Connell wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes and he gasped out,

"Oh God."

"What…what is it?" Evy asked, quickly standing to see, alarmed by the shocked tone of O'Connell's voice.

When she saw the raw welts that criss-crossed Jonathan's lower back she felt her stomach roll with nausea. Her hands flew up to her mouth and she couldn't take her eyes away from the grisly sight. All the welts looked angry and painful, but the skin had been broken on some of them, especially where two or more welts overlapped each other, and the blood on them had barely dried. The damage to his back began just above his waist and continued uninterrupted onwards down below the bedclothes. As Rick pulled the sheet back, until it lay draped across his waist, more and more abuse was reveled. Not only the welts, but bruises on his body, and where one of his hands could been seen the skin of his wrist was rubbed raw too, as if he'd been restrained and had desperately struggled against his bonds.

Finally able to find her voice Evy dragged her eyes away from the torture that had been inflicted on her brother, and with unshed tears in her eyes, she appealed to Rick for some kind of explanation to a situation she found incomprehensible,

"Why…oh God why would anyone hurt him like this."

His own shock giving way to anger Rick could only shake his head,

"I don't know, but I intend to find out, and when I do…" The threat was left unspoken, and making himself take charge of the present situation he continued. "I'll send for a doctor, we need to see if he's hurt anywhere else."

Evy looked at him her expression shattered, her face pale, and for the first time since he'd met her she looked completely lost.

Before he left Rick reached out and cupped her cheek,

"It'll be alright…Jonathan will be alright." Then he recklessly added. "I promise."


	9. Alone Chapter 9

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 9

Rick sat perched on the edge of Evy's bed as they waited in her room for the doctor to finish examining Jonathan. He thoughtfully chewed his lip gazing down at the floor, scenarios for what had happened to the other man running through his mind. In the end it had been Evy who had gone to fetch Doctor Dahl, Rick had some unpleasant suspicions that he'd wanted to investigate. So he'd offered to try and get Jonathan's temperature down with some cool water while Evy got help. Rick had had an adventurer's life, and while that meant there'd never been a dull moment, it also meant he'd been exposed to some of the seamier, unwholesome, aspects of life. Rick wasn't naïve and had suspected, from Jonathan's shocked state, that something more than a beating had happened to him. When he'd seen the rest of the welts, the bruising, and the traces of dried blood, he'd felt sick to his stomach, but had realised that his suspicions were probably correct.

He felt so sad for Jonathan. Although the man could be annoying at times Rick had actually found himself coming to like him. He could seem rather cowardly, but when he'd had to Jonathan had come through for both Rick and Evy back at Hamunaptra. To be afraid, but to overcome your fears, Rick considered that the true sign of bravery. Hell, any idiot could be fearless; all it meant was that they were too stupid to be scared. Lord knows flesh eating scarabs, undead mummies, the biblical plagues of Egypt, and an approaching apocalypse, were enough to unnerve anybody. Rick knew he'd had his fair-share of heart stopping moments during the whole adventure. Besides there was another reason Rick had come to like Jonathan, Jonathan obviously loved Evy, and that put him in Rick's good graces more than anything else.

If Jonathan had been hurt the way Rick was afraid he had been, Rick didn't know how the Englishman would take it. Right now he seemed in complete shock, as if he'd shut down. Rick had seen that response before, in times of extreme stress people sometimes retreated into themselves in an effort to cope, to escape. That's what Jonathan had seemed to have done. Rick felt a flare of white-hot anger within him for whoever had done this. While Jonathan could be rather dishonest, well he did pick my pocket the first time we met, Rick thought with a wry smile, Rick was sure there was no real malice in him. In fact, though Jonathan skirted around the law sometimes, he'd managed to keep a certain innocence about him that reminded Rick of Evy, and several times while they'd been separated from her in Hamunaptra Rick had found himself overcome with the urge to protect the other man. I wish I could've protected him from this, Rick thought bitterly.

Rick's thoughts were interrupted at that moment by Evy's anguished voice,

"Oh what's taking so long? Do you think I should go in and see what's happening?"

Looking up Rick winced at the worry he saw on her face. She paused in her endless, nervous pacing and she looked at him, unconsciously wringing her hands,

"No…no," Rick replied. "I'm sure the doctor will be out soon. It's best just to let him look after Jonathan for the minute. Why don't you sit down."

Getting up Rick indicated the bed, but Evy shook her head. Reaching up she rubbed at her forehead with one hand, trying to rub away the headache she could feel gathering there.

"I'd rather stand…Oh Rick what do you think happened? Jonathan's always getting into scrapes, he always has done ever since we were children, but this…"

Evy's voice petered out and as she gazed at Rick wide-eyed and afraid for her brother, Rick didn't know what to tell her,

I…I don't know Evelyn. But Cairo can be dangerous. At night there are people…bad guys who hurt…"

It was Rick's turn to run out of words. He dreaded the doctor's diagnosis that would be coming soon. He wouldn't be able to protect Evy from the truth, and he knew how much that truth would hurt her.

As if on cue there was a gentle knock on the door, and then a serious faced Doctor Dahl opened it up, and stepped into the room.

"How is he?" Evy immediately demanded to know. "How badly hurt is he?"

The doctor turned towards her, his face saddened and a little pale.

On seeing his expression, and sensing bad news, Evy reached out and grasped Rick's hand for strength. Looking from Evy to Rick the doctor hesitated, and then, after clearing his throat, he said in a quiet voice,

"Perhaps it would be best if I spoke to Mr. O'Connell alone? Perhaps you'd like to sit with your brother Miss Carnahan?"

Immediately suspicious Evy frowned,

"I will go to Jonathan, once I know what's wrong with him. I'm his sister, I have a right to know what's happened to him."

She released Rick's hand then and drew herself up to her full height. Rick felt a flash of pride for this display of Evy's spirit, but it was quickly followed by an overwhelming sadness, at the thought of how upset she was gong to be when she learnt what Jonathan had suffered. For while Rick had had his suspicions before, the look in the doctor's eyes confirmed his fears, and as much as he wished he could shield her, he knew that Evy had to know the truth. Turning to Doctor Dahl, Rick said,

"Miss Carnahan is Mr. Carnahan's only family, she has a right to know."

Looking Rick in the eye the doctor replied,

"I realise that Mr. O'Connell, but some things…Well, young ladies should not be exposed to certain unfortunate events."

Evy's temper flared, as she perceived that the doctor was patronizing her, and she was annoyed at the way he spoke about her to Rick as if she wasn't in the room.

"I'll have you know that I am past the age of majority Doctor, and, furthermore, I am not totally without experience of the world. Why, I have seen things that would surprise even you. So if you don't mind I would prefer it if you addressed your remarks to me, and as my brother's next of kin I demand to know your diagnosis, and what treatment you propose."

Somewhat taken aback by this outburst, and sensing that he was going to get no help from Rick, Doctor Dahl bowed to the inevitable. Nodding in Evy's direction he said,

"Very well Miss Carnahan, if you insist." He took a breath before continuing, "I've examined your brother and he is quite seriously ill. He has a high fever caused by an infection, and from his non-responsive state I'd say he is also suffering from shock. He has suffered injury to his back, buttocks and thighs from a beating of some sort. Some of these blows have broken the skin, and one or two are infected. I have cleaned and dressed these wounds, and am hopeful I've nipped the infection there in the bud. However, it is the infection that has taken hold in his other injuries that will not be so easily dealt with."

Here the doctor paused and seemed unwilling to go on, so Evy prompted him,

"What other injuries Doctor?" At his continued hesitation, her tone softened and she implored him, "Please, I'm so worried about him…I must know everything…please."

With a sigh the doctor nodded, and after glancing down at the floor for a moment he looked back up into Evy's face, and told her,

"Your brother has injuries…internal injuries Miss Carnahan."

Afraid of internal bleeding, caused by whatever had produced the bruises she'd seen on Jonathan's chest and back, she said,

"From the beating. Do you mean he's bleeding inside?"

"Not exactly Miss Carnahan."

Sensing that the doctor was about to tell her what Jonathan had suffered, Rick moved to stand beside Evy ready to support her if needs be.

"I'm sorry Miss Carnahan, but your brother has been the victim of a very serious, and very vicious attack. The internal injuries he has suffered are the result of a brutal sexual assault."

For a moment it seemed as if time had stood still, the silence following the doctor's words deafening. No one moved. The only sounds came in through the open windows, as the world outside carried on as if nothing was happening, while inside the room Evy's world began to slowly collapse around her as the doctor's words sunk in, and their meaning became clear.

Shaking her head she turned to Rick, her eyes pleading with him to tell her it wasn't true. When she saw the sympathy, and sadness, there she knew that this wasn't some awful mistake, but the horrible truth. Still looking at Rick, her voice shaking, she murmured,

"No…n…no. Not Jonathan…he's never hurt anybody…Why…why would anyone do that…hurt him like that…"

Seeing the tears welling in her eyes, and feeling his own heart break at the devastation he could see on her face, Rick reached out and took her in his arms, holding her tightly against him feeling the tremors that shook her body, and hearing her sobs. Leaning down he whispered,

"I'm sorry Evy…so sorry. I don't know why anyone would do that. I'm sorry."

The doctor stood quietly for several minutes while Evy cried, and Rick comforted her, then he said,

"Perhaps it would be best if you lay down Miss Carnahan? I know this has been a shock. Perhaps something to help you sleep?"

At his words Evy pressed her face even harder into Rick's shoulder for a moment, and then gently pulled away. Turning towards the doctor she willed her tears to stop, and reached up, scrubbing at her wet face with her hand. She sniffed and replied, a little uncertainly at first, and then with greater determination,

"No…no thank you doctor. I'm fine…I don't need to lie down, I need to help my brother. Now if you could tell us what needs to be done, Mr. O'Connell and I can begin to help Jonathan get better."

The doctor hesitated for a moment, but seeing the determination on Evy's face he knew it would be best to admit defeat.

"Of course. If we could sit down for a moment I'll explain everything to you Miss Carnahan."


	10. Alone Chapter 10

Disclaimer- I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Author's Note- I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews, I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you thought of the previous chapters, and special thanks to Adele for being open-minded enough to give the story another chance.

Alone Chapter 10

Starting awake Evy sat up too quickly, the crick in her neck and back making itself felt. Reaching up she rubbed at the left hand side of her neck where abused muscles protested at her having spent yet another night sitting in a chair by Jonathan's bed, instead of comfortably asleep in her own bed. Stifling a yawn she glanced over at the closed shutters, and could see the golden light of dawn peaking through them leaving thin strips of light reaching out across the floor. She got up out of her chair, and stretching as she stood, Evy could swear she felt the vertebrae in her back popping as she did so. Walking slowly over to the windows she opened the shutters and let the natural light spill into the quiet room. Unfastening the windows she pushed them open breathing in the fresh, dry air and shivered slightly as the coldness of the night still lingered in it's touch. Walking back to the bed she reached down to the bedside cabinet and turned the lamp off.

Evy frowned slightly at the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on Jonathan's brow while they'd both slept. Reaching into the bowl that stood next to the table lamp she lifted the cloth out from it, carefully wringing out the excess water, and very gently she wiped it across his forehead, and down over his cheeks. Her frown of concern turned into an expression of sadness as her actions failed to stir her brother.

It had been four days since Rick had broken into Jonathan's room at her insistence, and they'd found him ill and catatonic in his bed after being attacked and brutalized in the most awful way imaginable. Doctor Dahl had cleaned and dressed his injuries and had explained to them that an infection had already taken hold in some of Jonathan's wounds. All they could do was to keep his other injuries clean and try to keep his temperature down, and hope. The doctor had told them that it was up to Jonathan to fight the infection that ravaged his body, but Evy feared that wasn't happening.

Jonathan was unconscious most of the time, occasionally seeming to dream, or re-live his ordeal. He'd become agitated, tossing and turning in the bed, and his soft whimpers and sobs would cut through Evy's heart leaving her in tears too. Thank goodness for Rick. His strength, and comforting presence meant so much to her. She didn't know how she would have managed if he hadn't been there for them both. It was Rick who help Doctor Dahl when he came each day to clean and re-dress Jonathan's injuries, and it was him she clung to when tired and despairing she faltered, unable to be strong and practical for the moment, and just needing to be held and comforted.

Worse, perhaps than Jonathan's fever fueled dreams, were the moments when he seemed to awaken. He'd start from his tortured nightmares and stare with glassy, unfocussed eyes. In that state he wouldn't want anyone near him, looking at her, but not seeing her, caught up in a waking nightmare, where he would fight to escape those who cared for, and loved, him. It had been in those desperate moments that she saw a side to Rick that made her love him more. Afraid that in his delirium Jonathan might hurt himself, he would have to be restrained, and despite his weakened state his fear would give him strength. Evy was unable to properly hold him and so Rick would step in. She had watched as Rick had held her brother, gripping his wrists as gently as possible, talking in a low, mono-tone, reminding Jonathan of their adventures at Hamunaptra, the melody of his voice, rather than his words, calming her brother. His struggles would slow, and he'd sink back against his pillows, eyes sliding shut again.

Once again wetting the cloth and smoothing it over her brother's fever flushed face Evy wondered if Rick was back yet. He'd been going out late at night and staying out until the early hours of the morning, ever since Jonathan had been attacked. She knew he was trying to discover who had done this. She had wanted to help, eager to find the fiend that had hurt Jonathan so badly, but Rick had refused. He'd told her that it was best for her to stay with her brother, which she knew was correct, but she'd still wanted to take an active part in finding out who was responsible. It had been then that Rick had explained to her that it wouldn't be safe for her in some of the places he had to go. He'd implied that before they'd met some of the company he'd kept was part of the rather seamier side of Cairo life. So far he hadn't found out who was responsible, but Evy knew how determined Rick could be, and he'd vowed to track them down.

A slight moan from the man in the bed re-focused her attention. Leaning forward she smoothed a stray lock of Jonathan's hair back off his forehead murmuring,

"Sshh Jonathan, it's all right, you're safe now. No one's going to hurt you, you're safe with me."

Whether some part of what she said reached him, or, as with Rick, Jonathan merely reacted to the soothing tone of her voice, he quieted down again with a slight sigh.

As Evy watched a shiver passed through Jonathan's body, and no matter how hard she tried to stay strong, she felt a spike of fear pass through her. She felt angry with herself for the tears that blurred her vision, and the way her voice caught when grasping Jonathan's hand, and squeezing the unresponsive fingers, she whispered to him,

"Please Jonathan fight…you have to fight. Don't leave me…Pl…please Jonathan don't leave me alone."

Exhausted and momentarily over-wrought Evy couldn't stop the tears from falling as she leant down, her forehead resting against the back of Jonathan's hand, the heat there searing it's way into her soul, making the tears fall harder.

What would she do if Jonathan…died? She'd be all alone in the world. Of course there was Rick, and she loved him more with each passing day, but their love was new. While her brother had always been there, his love a constant in her life.

Evy thought back to the dark days, several months after Jonathan fourteenth birthday, when their beautiful mother had suddenly fallen ill, and had been taken from them within a matter of days. Their father had been inconsolable, the first few days so consumed by his own overwhelming grief that he was unable to offer his children more than the most rudimentary support. It had been Jonathan who had been there for her then. He had been the one who had held her while she sobbed herself to sleep, the one who had looked after her, bullying her into eating her meals, and assuring her that their mother still watched over them both when he tucked her into bed at night. After the funeral their father had managed to pull himself back into the present, and had once again become her main source of comfort, but she'd never forgotten those first days when Jonathan had pushed away his own grief to care for her.

Then after their father's death they had supported each other. Evy mourning the person who had meant everything to her, the man she'd shared her love of antiquities with, her love of everything Egyptian with, and Jonathan struggling under the feeling that he'd been a disappointment to their father. Despite all the times Evy had assured Jonathan that their father had loved him fiercely she knew that deep inside he still carried that particular burden, a pain he covered with his childish games and quick wit.

The sound of the bedroom door being pushed open made Evy lift her head, sniffing, and quickly reaching up to wipe her face with her hands. Rick stood hovering in the doorway, looking tired from his all night mission trying to hunt down Jonathan's attacker, but there was something else on his face. A smile fought to break out on his face, an excitement of sorts lighting up his eyes, and the way he didn't enter the room, staying in the doorway as if hiding something outside made Evy suspicious. Evy stood and tried to look beyond him, but Rick caught her trick and pulled the wooden door a little closer to himself to cut off her view of the corridor outside.

"Rick" curiosity coloured Evy's voice as she spoke" what is it? What's happened"

Rick couldn't keep his grin to himself any longer, he reminded Evy of a child bursting to tell a secret, with a pang of sadness she realised he reminded her so much of Jonathan.

"Look who I found on my way home this morning." He said.

Throwing open the door, and stepping aside, he revealed the figure who was standing quietly in the corridor. Evy's eyes widened, and she felt her heart beat a little faster in her chest, as she gasped in surprise,

"Ardeth."


	11. Alone Chapter 11

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 11

Rick had been becoming increasingly frustrated. For the past four nights he'd trawled his way through the seediest, darkest parts of Cairo. Buying drinks, making sure to lose at cards, knowing that alcohol and money were the two quickest ways to loosen tongues, but all to no avail.

The news that Jonathan had been attacked, but thankfully for Jonathan and Evy not the details of his ordeal, were all over every gambling establishment and bar in the city. Although Rick did come across a few people who seemed pleased by the news he was genuinely surprised by how many others were saddened to discover what had happened. It seemed that despite Jonathan's rather light-fingered habits many of the patrons of his favourite haunts had something of a soft spot for the Englishman.

Rick might not have learned anything of importance about who had attacked Jonathan, but he had learned plenty about the man himself. While Jonathan's cheating at cards and occasional petty larceny were common knowledge they were shrugged off as just being – well just being Jonathan. What Rick heard were stories about how Jonathan was never a sore loser when lady-luck, and some marked cards, went against him. How he would never hesitate to lend a fellow a few pounds if he could. How he was sure to stick by you and cheer you up if life was being unkind. How he spoke about his little sister constantly, about how clever she was, how she would go far, becoming a Bainbridge scholar one-day, pride evident in his voice.

The more he learnt about Jonathan from his friends the more Rick found himself liking him, and the more angry he got that someone had done this to someone who was genuinely good-hearted and warm. He only hoped that his ordeal wouldn't change Jonathan too much, because he really wanted to get to know the man that was spoken of so often with so much affection by others, and Rick was afraid that if he survived that man may be lost forever.

Rick had grimaced, annoyed at himself for thinking _if _Jonathan survived. Of course he'd survive, get better, he had too for Evy's sake. Evy clearly adored her older brother, no matter how exasperated she became with him sometimes, and she had been shaken to her very core by what had been done to him. All through their adventures together at Hamunaptra Rick had been impressed by Evy's indomitable spirit. Yes, he'd seen her afraid, but being confronted by the undead, flesh eating scarabs and nearly being sacrificed was enough to scare anyone, God knows he'd had his moments of near mind-numbing terror too. Yet despite all that he'd never seen Evy look defeated – not until now. Every morning he came home to find her sitting by her brother bedside he could see a little more defeat and despair in her eyes, and it broke his heart.

Every morning he also had to see the question in her eyes, wondering if he'd discovered who had done this to her beloved brother. Every morning Rick felt like he was letting her down, like he was letting her and Jonathan both down, every time he had to sadly shake his head.

Walking slowly back to Fort Brydon empty handed again Rick began to think the time had come for him to contact some of his less savoury acquaintances. After his career in the Foreign Legion had come to a rather bloody end with the majority of his comrades lying dead in the sand around Hamunaptra and a nightmarish trek into the desert, hanging onto life by shear determination, until he was lucky enough to stumble across a Bedouin encampment, Rick had spent three years getting by as best as he could. In the first two years or so that had meant getting in with a fairly ruthless crowd. There were a few things he'd done back then that he wasn't too proud of, things that he'd make sure Evy never found out about. However, it did mean that some guys who were pretty well connected to the illegal side of Cairo life owed him favours. Guys who knew how to get things done. Guys who knew how to find things out. He'd relinquished that life about six months before Jonathan had picked his pocket determined to make a new start, a better life for himself, but if he had too he'd go back to his old haunts, seek out old acquaintances, and call in his debts.

He'd just made up his mind on this course of action for the next night as he approached the gates of Fort Brydon when a dark figure stepped out of the shadows and called out,

"O'Connell"

Rick instantly recognised the rich accented voice of Ardeth Bey, and stepping forward he held out a hand to the other man. Ardeth took O'Connell's hand in a strong grip as Rick asked,

"What are you doing here? I thought we said good-bye in the desert." Then an uncomfortable thought entered his head, "Ah no, don't tell me there's mummy trouble again 'cause I'm not up for saving the world right now."

Ardeth smiled shaking his head,

"No my friend, the monster is dead and all is quiet again in the desert. I am here because I have heard that trouble has come to you."

"You mean Jonathan?" Rick asked.

Nodding Ardeth replied,

"Yes. I have heard that he has been hurt and that he is not well."

"How? I mean how do you know?" Rick asked puzzled.

"You and the Carnahans fought bravely at Hamunaptra and you did my people a great service defeating Imhotep."

"Even if we were the ones who woke him up in the first place." Rick pointed out ruefully.

"That is so, but you also stayed to fight him when many would have fled."

Rick shrugged to acknowledge Ardeth's words,

"That still doesn't explain how you know about Jonathan or what you're doing here."

"Although you all proved yourselves as brave warriors trouble does seem to follow you all wherever you go, so I had some friends of the Medjai here in Cairo keep a watch on you, just in case." Ardeth replied with a shrug. "When I heard that Jonathan was hurt I had to come to see if I could help. We have fought together, faced death together we are friends, so…I came."

Rick smiled and reached out to pat Ardeth on the shoulder,

"Well it's good to see you. I just wish…well that it was under better circumstances."

"So do I my friend." Ardeth assured him. "But come you must tell me what has happened. How was Jonathan hurt?"

Rick could tell by Ardeth's expression that he had let some of the anger and despair he felt show on his face, the Medjai leader's face became even more concerned looking than it had before.

"Let's walk in the garden for a while." Rick said, glancing up at the sky and seeing the first streaks of dawn lightening it. He knew he'd have to tell Ardeth everything and he would rather not have to tell the story in front of poor Evy. Besides he hoped she was getting some rest, her nighttime vigils by Jonathan's bed were exhausting her, but she refused to let anyone else take her place.

Rick's voice was a quiet monotone as he told Ardeth what Jonathan had gone through and how ill he was now. His emotions finally betraying him when he voiced his own dark fear that Jonathan was going to die, his tongue stumbling over the words he'd only said in his own mind before, afraid to say them out loud as if by uttering them he'd somehow make them come true.

They'd stopped walking and Ardeth was quiet his face turned away from Rick, facing the rising sun. They both stood motionless for a few minutes before Ardeth finally seemed to collect himself and turned back to face him. Now Rick had seen Ardeth angry before, when they stood facing each other across a campfire, with Rick holding a lit stick of dynamite and Ardeth warning them all to leave Hamunaptra, and when the Medjai warrior had assured them that no mortal weapons could kill Imhotep before he and his men had gone to face the monster. However, the barely controlled rage he could see in the other man's eyes now made Rick's blood run cold for a moment.

"This is why you prowl Cairo at night, searching for the creature who has done this terrible thing?"

Rick nodded,

"Yeah. I've not had any luck yet, but I still have a few favours to call in. I'm gonna get the son-of-a-bitch who did this."

Ardeth reached out and grasped Rick's forearm,

"Then you shall have me by your side. This calls for revenge, the one who has done this must be punished."

"Oh don't worry I have a few 'punishments' already in mind." Rick assured him.

Ardeth inclined his head in acknowledgement before asking,

"May I see him?"

"Of course, of course…I know Evy is gonna be glad to see you."

Rick had been right about that. After gasping his name, and a moments stunned silence, she quickly crossed the room and hugged the surprised, but pleased man. Stepping back, a little flustered and embarrassed by her reaction she asked,

"But what are you doing here? There's no trouble at Hamunaptra…"

Interrupting her Ardeth replied,

"As I told O'Connell all is well there, it is for your troubles that I have come."

As he spoke Ardeth looked towards the bed where Jonathan lay concern etching itself across his features once more.

Evy sighed and turned to look towards her brother as well,

"Did Rick tell you what happened?"

"Yes."

Nodding Evy glanced down at the floor feeling her emotions in turmoil inside her and a hot pricking at the back of her eyes that signaled that tears were rising up. She tried to reach out within herself to find some hidden strength to cling to, to push her fears and sadness away, but she was too tired and too depressed to do so. She bit her lip as the tears escaped and ran hot down her burning cheeks. Looking up at Rick she saw the anguish on his face and that just made her feel worse.

In an instant she was wrapped in his strong embrace while she sobbed into his chest.

"Oh Rick, he's so ill…his fever's worse…what…what if he dies. What will I do?"

At those words Rick held her even tighter, feeling the strength drain out of her.

"It'll be okay Evy. He won't die…he'll pull through this." Rick crooned to her looking over at Ardeth silently asking the other man to help them, to make his words to her a promise not a lie.

Ardeth understood and added his own assurances to Rick's,

"O'Connell is correct. Your brother will live I am sure of it. While fighting the monster he was afraid many times, but he never gave up he was always there for his friends, for you, he always did what had to be done. That is the true sign of bravery. He will not give up now. He will fight and get better because he will know that we are here for him…and his love for you is great, he will not leave you."

Rick smiled his gratitude at him as Evy straightened at Ardeth's words and reached up to wipe away her tears. She turned and smiled sadly at him,

"You're right Ardeth…thank you."

Ardeth inclined his head towards her before saying,

"But you must not make yourself ill looking after him, Jonathan wouldn't want that. You are tired and should rest."

"Oh, but Jonathan might need me."

"Then I shall be here for him…it is why I came." Ardeth stated. "You must eat and rest…you to O'Connell. I will stay with Jonathan and see to his needs."

"Well…" Evy hesitated, although the thought of some hot food and a lie down in her bed did sound tempting.

"Please," Ardeth said sincerely. "Let me help."

Seeing his earnestness Evy finally relented and let herself be led out of Jonathan's room by Rick, who turned back to Ardeth as they passed through the doorway to mouth a silent "thank you" to him.

When they had gone Ardeth made his way to Jonathan's bedside. He winced at the pale skin, and fever-flushed cheeks, and at the angry bruises that he could see on Jonathan's face and neck. Reaching down Ardeth gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Jonathan's forehead as he whispered in a broken voice,

"Habibi."

Author's Note: - Arabic/English translation: - Habibi/Beloved one.


	12. Alone Chapter 12

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Dedication: - I hope you feel better soon Sheri.

Author's Notes: - This is a very short chapter as it is from Jonathan's point of view, but a hopefully longer chapter is to follow shortly.

Alone Chapter 12

Jonathan was confused and frightened. He was so hot he felt as if he was burning alive, his blood was liquid fire in his veins that consumed him from the inside. His whole body seemed to throb in time to his heartbeat, his limbs heavy, his mind feeling disconnected, disembodied almost.

He knew he didn't want to wake up, he didn't remember why but he knew that something awful was waiting for him in the waking world, but he had little peace in the twilight world he now inhabited either. Dreams, nightmares, memories confused, jagged, raw all swirled around him dragging him into themselves. Sensations seemed to be heightened noises, colours, smells, touches setting his nerve endings alight.

Memories merged with nightmares and Jonathan began to forget what was real and what was imagined or out of place. He'd be alone running through the stone corridors and chambers of Hamunaptra being chased, but he'd know that what pursued him wasn't the monster Imhotep, but a more human creature, one he feared even more then the ancient high priest. He'd be running but feeling "**him" **everywhere, knowing that he could never escape because his tormentor was all around him. Still though Jonathan would run knowing that when he stopped he'd be caught, and if he were caught it would be the worst thing imaginable. Inside Jonathan realised that he knew what would happen to him when he was captured, but he also knew it was so bad that he didn't want to think about it, to acknowledge it, so he pushed it deep down within himself and turned away from it.

Sometimes in his dream world he'd hear voices calling to him. Often they'd be distant and indistinct, muffled and beyond his reach. Sometimes though he'd take a risk and reach out for them, wanting some contact with the real world, wanting to reach out to someone because he was so lonely and ever since he was a child Jonathan had never liked to be alone.

There were three voices; they were familiar to him he knew that because he wasn't afraid of them. When he heard them Jonathan felt almost safe.

One was soft, gentle and full of sadness, when it spoke his name he could hear tears and dismay and it made him feel sad too and guilty that he was causing the owner of the gentle voice pain.

The second voice was a little gruff sometimes, it tried to cajole him, yet other times it too was gentle and would whisper in his ear like the first voice so often did. Jonathan was unsure sometimes how he felt about this voice. Sometimes he would feel resentment and wished the voice would leave and then he could be alone with the first soft, gentle voice, but more often he found strength in the second voice's tones.

Then a third voice had come to whisper to him out of the heat and the darkness. This voice was rich and deep. It often spoke strange words in a language that rolled almost like music from the speaker's lips. He liked to hear that melodic cadence, it soothed him and he could lose himself in its gentle rise and fall. This was the voice that Jonathan liked to listen to most of all. It wrapped itself around him and lulled him. He knew that while he could hear it that the thing that stalked him couldn't come near him. When he was in the embrace of those exotic tones he was safe. 

It wouldn't last though. The burning heat that was devouring him would reach out and snatch him away plunging him back into his fractured world of nightmares where the monster was waiting for him, waiting to touch him and hurt him again.


	13. Alone Chapter 13

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 13

Evy sat quietly by Jonathan's bedside and watched her brother sleep the first peaceful, natural sleep he'd had in days. His face was still pale and drawn with dark circles under his eyes but the sweat and the flush of fever were gone at last and his features were slack with sleep, not fearful or upset as a fever fueled nightmare assaulted his subconscious. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the mantle and Jonathan's gentle, steady breathing. The panted, strained breathing, confused and jumbled words filled with pain and terror were no longer present to make her want to put her hands over her ears and squeeze her eyes shut. Although the windows were open the sounds of Cairo seemed distant and all Evy concentrated on were those gentle inhalations and exhalations. Her eyes dropped from Jonathan's still face to his chest and she watched him take each breath. Reaching up she absently brushed away one relieved tear from her cheek.

Jonathan had been so ill. The fever that had ravaged him had been burning him up from the inside out. Despite Doctor Dahl's visits and the scrupulous way he kept Jonathan's injuries clean infection had set in and the doctor had implied that recovery rested with Jonathan and his will to live. She'd had to watch as her brother who'd always been so full of life became more and more ill slipping away from them, and Doctor Dahl had shaken his head and whispered to Rick that they should prepare for the worst. Evy had despaired unable to contemplate a future without her exasperating, loveable brother.

Then Rick had brought Ardeth Bey out of the darkness and the Medjai leader had given Evy the heart to hope again. And she'd been right to renew her faith.

Ardeth had immediately taken over Jonathan's care relieving Evy of some of the responsibility she felt for her brother's well being. Apart from Rick, Ardeth was the only other person she would entrust her brother's safety to.

When Ardeth had had his belongings brought to Fort Brydon it emerged he'd come prepared for the possibility of illness. His calmly enquired,

"May I?"

Had met with Evy's immediate and unhesitating,

"Of course…please anything you can do to help him."

So the white bandages had been replaced with poultices and tinctures that smelt of garlic, calendula, sage, honey and myrrh. When Doctor Dahl had called and seen what Ardeth was doing he'd been outraged calling it, _"primitive, native voodoo."_ Evy had very calmly asked him to leave and to not come back.

Ardeth had stayed with Jonathan soothing him in his delirium with words quietly whispered in Arabic which seemed to calm Jonathan like nothing else would. At first Evy had been a little surprised by the gentle care Ardeth showed towards her brother. He was a warrior and leader of his people after all.

But then several nights earlier she'd awoken from a restless sleep and had decided to go to Jonathan's room and see if Ardeth wanted to get some rest. She'd doubted that she'd get back to sleep and so thought she might as well watch over her brother since it was only a few hours until dawn which was when she'd promised Ardeth she would come and relieve him so he could get some rest. She'd tiptoed down the corridor to Jonathan's room not wanting to wake anyone else up and had carefully and quietly pushed open his door. She'd been so stealthy that Ardeth hadn't heard her, caught up as he was with wiping a cloth from the bowl of cool water which stood beside him on the table over Jonathan's face and bare torso to try and help lower his temperature. He was murmuring softly to Jonathan as he slowly swiped the cooling cloth over Jonathan's fever flushed skin.

It wasn't the first time Evy had heard the melodic, almost hypnotic, litany of whispered Arabic, but for the first time with the stillness of the room some of the words reached her with enough clarity that she heard them properly. At first she'd been shocked by the sweet words of love that Ardeth crooned so softly into Jonathan's ear, and considering what Jonathan had suffered she felt a fierce flare of protective anger burst forth within her. However, that anger burned itself out in almost the same instant as it came into being.

She recognised love when she saw it. During her mother's last illness she could remember watching her father sitting by her mother's bed talking quietly to her in Arabic to sooth and comfort her. Suddenly Evy had been glad as she watched Ardeth with Jonathan. Glad that Jonathan had someone to love him just as she had Rick to love her. Glad that he had someone to watch over him and protect him. She wasn't sure how her brother would react to Ardeth's feelings, especially after what had happened to him. But she wasn't as naïve as Rick and Jonathan thought she was, and she certainly knew enough about the harsh realities of the world to know that to have unconditional love given to one was something to be cherished. So she'd quietly slipped away again with her soul feeling lighter then it had in days.

Ardeth's traditional remedies had preformed miracles where modern Western medicine had failed and earlier the previous evening Jonathan's fever had finally broken much to everybody's great relief. He'd not awoken but at least now the sleep he was experiencing was restful. Evy hadn't left his side wanting to be there for him when he woke up.

Now that the danger to Jonathan's life had past Evy had seen the warrior in Ardeth once more come to the fore, as he and Rick had left to see if they could uncover the identity of the person or persons who'd hurt Jonathan so badly. They'd returned just after dawn tired and disappointed, empty-handed, and Evy knew that their hopes for exacting justice now rested with Jonathan being able to tell them what had happened and who had attacked him so viciously.

Evy found that as much as she wanted to see Jonathan's eyes open and to talk to him, to hear his voice, she also felt a huge amount of trepidation on his behalf. When he awoke he'd have to remember what happened to him and to come to terms with it. Evy sighed as she watched him sleep wondering sadly if this was the last peaceful respite Jonathan would have for a long time.


	14. Alone Chapter 14

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 14

Jonathan briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to drown. He felt so desperately tired his limbs too heavy to move, all of his muscles aching. Yet he struggled to push himself up, up out of the dark and murky depths he felt submerged in. He reached up towards the sparkling surface, reaching for the light and warmth and life that he knew awaited him there. But usually the exhaustion would overwhelm him before he broke through and he'd feel himself slowly sinking back down into the inky grasp of sleep or unconsciousness, he wasn't sure which.

This time, however he had something to anchor him to the waking world. A hand, small and warm held his, and a thumb gently rubbed across the back of his hand. It's steady rhythm was almost hypnotic and Jonathan found himself floating in a kind of twilight state neither fully asleep or fully awake, just letting himself feel that gentle pressure moving constantly across his skin. His sluggishly working brain even supplied him with a name and a face to go with the comforting hand – Evy.

He let his mind drift back to a time when that smaller hand had been a nearly permanent fixture held in his own hand. When they were children and Evy had followed him around with the dogged determination of a blood hound no matter how many times he tried to lose her. She would come trotting up to him and slip her tiny hand into his and he'd feel his annoyance waiver and his resolve to leave her behind melt away, and the two of them would set off together hand in hand on some grand adventure around the latest dig site which had intrigued their parents or in the streets around their Cairo home. Always with Evy's voice lisping constant questions that Jonathan was proud to know all the answers to. Eventually though as she'd gotten older Evy's curiosity had made her ask questions that he no longer knew the answers to and so she'd ceased to follow him so devotedly, and her hand no longer held his as she turned to their father to tell her all the things she wanted to know. Jonathan had left them to their dusty old dead pharaohs and their broken pieces of pottery pushing down the sharp pain he'd felt at her abandonment and had found other, less reputable, ways of amusing himself. He'd never really acknowledged to himself before how much he'd missed the way Evy had looked up to him then, the feel of her warm hand tucked in his, and he didn't want to loose it now, he didn't want anything to disturb this moment so he let himself drift.

At least he didn't feel as hot as he had before when he'd been sure the very blood had been boiling in his veins. He could vaguely remember trying to get away from the heat but never being able to escape it. Of cool hands holding him and something cold and wet being brushed over his face, the contrast in temperature compared to his own all consuming internal fire shocking him, but also bringing with it a temporary relief. Slipping in and out of awareness that sweet relief of a cool cloth sliding over his over-heated skin had always been there. It had been a constant just as the voices had been. Voices that had told him he wasn't alone. Voices that he could remember bringing him comfort even if he'd been unable to understand what they said, just the sound of them had soothed him when he'd felt as if he needed to find a way to escape his own flesh.

For the first time Jonathan began to wonder why he felt as he did. He must have been ill. There'd been a time when he was young and he'd had the measles and he'd been told when he was older that he'd nearly died. That had been a time of confusion and heat and lethargy just like now so that must be it, he'd been ill.

But something stirred in the back of his mind. Something black and putrid that made him shiver and want to run away from it as fast as he could. Something he didn't want to confront twisted and writhed getting closer to him all the time. Turning from it Jonathan reached out to his anchor, to the small, warm hand and the constantly moving thumb that stroked so gently against his skin. Turning from it Jonathan felt himself struggling towards the surface, and although his limbs ached and his muscled seemed to burn from the effort he pushed up away from the darkness and the poisonous thing that lurked there. He felt himself squeeze the hand that held his to reassure himself that it was real, and with a gasp his eyes fluttered open for the first time in days.


	15. Alone Chapter 15

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 15

Ardeth felt exhausted. Not only was it the tiredness brought about by not enough sleep – time spent by Jonathan's bedside using the healing knowledge of his people, which had been past down throughout the millennia, to save his life, and time spent with O'Connell the two of them prowling the back streets of Cairo hunting the evil that had endangered that life in the first place. But it was also a bone-deep weariness brought about by the emotional turmoil he'd been experiencing.

After their adventures at Hamunaptra, defeating Imhotep and saving the world, Ardeth had never expected to see the Carnahans or O'Connell again. As far as he knew they were returning to their world just as he was returning to his. It had been with a deep pang of regret and unfulfilled, barely explored, feelings that he'd bid farewell to the handsome man he'd watched and grown to have feelings for. Ardeth smiled to himself when he remembered how he hadn't been able to resist leaning down from his camel and resting his hand on Jonathan's shoulder, savouring the heat from his pale skin that bled through the thin cotton of his shirt. He'd savoured it and committed it to his memory. Now he could remember precisely how Jonathan had jumped at his touch and with a shout had stumbled away flustered. Since that day that treasured memory had often brought a smile to Ardeth's face, and if his hand had burned a little from the recalled warmth it had touched, and if his heart had ached a little from the loss he'd felt he had accepted it as the way things had to be.

When a message had arrived from Cairo from the friends of the Medjai there to say that something had happened, to say that Jonathan, the man who's face still haunted Ardeth's dreams, had been hurt and was ill Ardeth hadn't hesitated for a moment. The message had indicated that the illness was a grave one and Ardeth had known deep down in his soul that he was needed.

Ardeth's mother had been as wise as she had been beautiful and graceful and had known many things about the medicinal plants and the remedies of the pharaohs and had passed her knowledge onto her son. While there were many things to admire about the civilisation from the West, Ardeth knew that the medicines of his people which were so casually dismissed by Western doctors were steeped in more wisdom then anything that would be being used to help Jonathan. He'd been right.

That first night in Cairo after he'd met O'Connell outside Fort Brydon his internal emotional battle had begun. Ardeth had felt the rising tide of his rage after O'Connell had told him in a hushed voice full of his own pain what had happened to Jonathan, and he'd seen guilt lurking in O'Connell's eyes, the guilt of a warrior who hadn't been able to protect one of those in his charge. Then he'd felt further cut to his very soul when he'd seen how distraught Evy had been and how ill Jonathan really was.

Fighting for Jonathan's life had been one of the hardest and most important battles Ardeth had ever fought. When he'd gotten there Jonathan had been maybe a day away from death and he thanked Allah that Jonathan's sister had been open-minded enough, and trusted him enough, to allow him to use his knowledge despite the protestations of the Western doctor who had been looking after Jonathan before he'd arrived. But it had been a close run thing. Despite the poultices he'd used to draw out the infection and the draughts he'd gently trickled between Jonathan's slack lips which had helped to lower his temperature Ardeth had nearly lost him. For days Ardeth had been painfully aware that death stalked the sick man's bedside. Sometimes in the darkest hours of the night as Jonathan burned with fever Ardeth was sure he'd caught a glimpse of a dark figure waiting patiently in the shadows to claim it's prize.

The mere thought of that apparition made Ardeth shiver despite the afternoon heat and he couldn't stop himself from glancing towards the bed where Jonathan slept peacefully. He had to reassure himself that it was real, that the man he'd come to care so deeply for was still with him, that he was still alive, that the dark figure had had to slip silently away empty handed when Jonathan's fever had finally broken.

Night's spent watching Jonathan fighting his demons in his unconsciousness, watching him fighting for his next laboured, panting breath, fighting to live, had deepened Ardeth's feelings for the other man so much that it had been as though his own life had depended upon Jonathan's survival. Because if he'd lost him, if he'd failed him and his medicines hadn't worked Ardeth was sure his own soul would have followed Jonathan's into the afterlife.

Not for the first time Ardeth felt a sharp pang of guilt and regret as he looked at Jonathan. If only he'd been swifter that night back in Hamunaptra this might never have happened, Jonathan might have been spared his ordeal.

As soon as O'Connell and the Carnahans and the group of Americans had approached Hamunaptra Ardeth and his men had been watching them. It hadn't taken long for Jonathan to stand out for Ardeth and more and more his eyes had sought out the slim figure. Then the night-time attack when the situation had demanded action and if possible for the foreigners to be driven from the ruined city before they awoke the unspeakable evil that had slept it's unquiet slumber for so many centuries. During that attack Ardeth thoughts had been filled with the handsome stranger and when he'd seen Jonathan standing behind the wall clutching a bottle and firing at his men caught up in the battle Ardeth had been seized by a wild idea. He'd envisioned himself riding by and leaning down from his saddle and sweeping the other man up and over his lap and riding away with him into the desert. He'd wanted to claim the other man as his, to ride away with him into the night and keep him safe and cherish him. The idea had been like a bright fever in his mind and suddenly the sights and sounds of the battle had faded into the background and all that Ardeth had been focused on was Jonathan. He'd urged his horse forward intent only on achieving his goal, heedless of what went on around him. He'd jumped the wall and had been close to coming alongside Jonathan as he'd fled from him, it would've been an easy matter to just reach down and seize the fleeing man around his waist and haul him up and over the front of his saddle. But Ardeth had paid for his single-minded pursuit of Jonathan and had been surprised by O'Connell's sudden leap that had knocked him from his horse. The moment had been broken and with O'Connell being insane enough to be waving lit dynamite under his nose Ardeth had known he'd have to leave before there was even more bloodshed. The thought that Jonathan might be one of those hurt had made his decision to withdraw a little easier.

After watching all that Jonathan had gone through and knowing that they'd nearly lost him Ardeth wished he had managed to sweep him up into his arms that night so that he could have kept him safe.

At least he could do that now – watch over him. It was too late to spare him from what he'd already suffered, but Ardeth had vowed not to leave Jonathan's side until he knew for sure that he would be safe. Until the creatures that had done this to him had been caught and punished as the ancient laws of his people demanded. From the cold, dangerous look in O'Connell's eyes when they tried to hunt the perpetrators down Ardeth was fairly sure he wouldn't object when the form of the punishment was explained to him.

A slight groan and a movement from the bed signaled that Jonathan was awakening again. Since the first time he'd awoken with Evy present he'd woken up briefly several times, but never for longer then a few minutes, enough time to sip some water and blink up at them in confusion before he'd fallen asleep again. What they wanted was for him to wake up long enough, and for him to be coherent enough, so they could ask him who had done this terrible thing to him, so they could exact retribution. Still, despite the fact Ardeth wanted Jonathan to be able to remember and to tell him and O'Connell what they needed to know he was still uneasy at how Jonathan would react to that remembrance.

Ardeth had his answer when he approached the bed and the now awake man and was greeted by a cry of fear and eyes that were filled with torment. As he gazed into their depths Ardeth felt a little bit of his heart break.


	16. Alone Chapter 16

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 16

Jonathan felt…he felt everything. He yearned for the time before he'd been so ill when he'd managed to withdraw from the world, from the memories, from himself. He'd cocooned himself into a nice, safe void where nothing and no one could reach him. But now everything crowded in on him and every sensation seemed to scrape over all the raw places he had inside of himself tearing and burning like acid. There was a maelstrom of negative emotions that pressed down on him so heavily that at times he found it hard to breathe.

Then there were the memories. They assaulted every one of his senses. Sometimes they'd rise up and overwhelm him even when he was awake. He'd suddenly find himself back there…in that hot, stinking room. It would be so real, so visceral, that he'd smell the sweat and the sex, hear the brutal grunts of his attackers, feel the burning stab of violation and taste the salt of his tears on his lips.

Then Evy or O'Connell or Ardeth would call his name loudly enough to break through into his waking nightmare and he'd find himself back in his room sobbing and shaking, confused and surrounded by other people's pity and sadness. He'd have no choice but to close his eyes, curl himself up into a ball and wish that the infection and fever had finished him off. He thought that maybe in death he would've been able to find some peace or at least oblivion.

He certainly wasn't getting much peace at the moment. There were always questions, pleas for him to think, to try and remember. Did he know who'd attacked him? Could he remember their faces, their voices, their clothes? Could he describe them? On and on, everyday no matter how many times he shook his head, or how often he told them he didn't remember anything, Jonathan knew they didn't believe him.

The first time he'd woken up and had felt any degree of clarity of mind he'd been surprised to find Ardeth Bey by his bedside. Well, that wasn't quite true. The surprise at his presence had come after the initial blind terror of opening his eyes feeling confused and finding a figure, obviously a male figure, standing over him. Jonathan cringed as he remembered how he'd reacted, trying to squirm away from the looming presence only for the movement to cause pain to erupt seemingly all over his body robbing him of his breath and what little strength he had. Thankfully the deep, cool sound of Ardeth's voice, it's cadence hazily remembered from his fever, had brought him to his senses before he'd made too much of a fool of himself, and although he'd meant to stammer out an apology all he managed to say in a puzzled voice was,

"What are you doing here?"

He'd found Ardeth's reply of,

"You were hurt, you needed me, I came."

Strangely comforting in it's honesty and simplicity.

Since then Evy had explained to him that the Medjai leader had saved his life, bringing him back from the edge of death with ancient remedies when all the best of early twentieth century medicine had failed. Jonathan had seen the dark shadow of fear flutter briefly in his sister's eyes when she'd told him in hushed tones how sick he'd been. It was only the rather surprising realisation at how upset Evy would be if he'd died that prevented Jonathan from wanting to curse Ardeth for his skill in healing him. At least if he'd died he'd have been spared his present state – constantly afraid and feeling defiled.

Perhaps the worst thing of all though was knowing that the three people he'd risked his life with, who were the bravest people he'd ever known, all knew what had happened to him. They all knew what he'd let be done to him, too weak and too much of a coward to be able to fight his attackers off and stop them from hurting him. Jonathan felt his shame burning his cheeks red and for perhaps the thousandth time since he'd emerged from his illness he asked himself _"why me?" _He knew that other people would accuse him of wallowing in self-pity, and maybe he was, but after what had happened didn't he have the right to indulge himself in some wallowing if he wanted to? A small, taunting voice in Jonathan's head whispered that if God-forbid anything as awful had befallen O'Connell or Ardeth they wouldn't be lying in bed feeling sorry for themselves and sniveling. No, they'd be strong and dignified, not like him at all.

He remembered a few months before his death his father, exasperated after paying off some of Jonathan's gambling debts, had told him that he had a weak character which was easily led and would get him into serious trouble one day. The words had stung at the time, but as with so many things that hurt him Jonathan had put up a brave front and laughed it off, telling his father to _"think nothing of it" _when he'd apologised to him the next day. It seemed though that his father was correct, just as Jonathan had always suspected he was. Even as he'd laughed it off the pain of the words spoken in haste and anger had bitten deep, because inside he'd known them to be true, and here was the proof. His gambling had gotten him into trouble that he hadn't been able to talk and charm his way out of and he'd paid the price, and now his weakness showed itself again as he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of unhappiness that seemed impossible to climb out of.

Just then he heard the door handle of his room rattle slightly signaling that someone was about to enter. Jonathan quickly reached up and rubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes hiding any bitter, unshed tears that had begun to gather there. The door swung open and Evy bustled into the room carrying a tray with the broth and tea that seemed to be his mainstay diet at the moment. The thought that he had to stick to this virtually liquid diet until he'd healed and his body could cope with something more substantial and solid quickly quashed the appetite that the aroma of the warm broth that pervaded the room had produced. However, he knew that if he didn't eat he'd see that worried frown wrinkling Evy's forehead and the sadness would creep back into her eyes and he'd crawl over hot coals not to see that look on her face, especially if it was there because of him. So he put on a false smile as she approached and pulled himself up in the bed so he was sitting up and said,

"Hello old mum, is it feeding time already?"

"A little late actually Jonathan." Evy replied as she set the tray down on the bedside table and leant over to fuss with his pillows. "I went into the museum this morning to try and finish re-ordering the library and lost track of time."

Jonathan laughed quietly at that thinking that only Evy could become so entranced by a load of dusty, old books so as to lose track of time. He was about to tease her gently about it when she continued talking.

"I would probably have been even later since I brought a couple of particularly interesting texts home with me and they were jolly heavy, but a knight in shining armour came to my rescue and helped me carry them home."

"Oh, is O'Connell playing Sir Lancelot to impress you?" Jonathan asked as he let Evy carefully place the tray on his lap.

Laughing lightly she replied,

"No, no…it was a friend of yours actually. He asked after you and said he'd been wanting to meet me since he'd heard you talking about you clever sister. Really Jonathan I'm very flattered."

The cheerful façade that he'd been holding in place for Evy's sake suddenly shattered and Jonathan felt something dark and icy cold stir deep inside himself in the place where he thought his soul might have once been – before.

His voice cracked slightly as he asked,

"Who...who was it? Did he tell you his name?"

Seeing the change that had overcome her brother Evy asked worriedly,

"What is it Jonathan? Are you feeling ill? Should I call to Ardeth?"

Ignoring her questions Jonathan asked more forcefully, even as he feared the answer,

"Who was it…what was his name?"

"He said his name was James…James Holden. That he was a friend of yours…" Evy broke off abruptly as she saw the affect her words had on her brother.

Jonathan felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. That…that thing, that evil creature had been near Evy, had walked with her, spoken to her. He had to swallow down the gorge that rose up in his throat at the thought.

He knew what Holden was doing. James had known that Evy would tell him that they'd spoken and was trying to taunt him with the threat he'd used to keep Jonathan quiet, that he might attack Evy next.

For a moment Jonathan felt dizzy and sick with fear for Evy, but as he gazed into her face which was rapidly becoming frantic with worry he knew what he had to do. He knew that Holden didn't know the friends that Jonathan was lucky enough and privileged enough to have. Reach up he grasped Evy's hand and urged her,

"Get Rick and Ardeth!"

Evy paused for a moment and Jonathan knew when the realisation of just who Holden was gripped her by the way her face paled and her lips thinned in determination.


	17. Alone Chapter 17

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 17

In another hour it would be dawn and as always in the desert the nights were cold, but the hour or so before the sun rose was always the chilliest. Even in the cab of the truck Rick could feel the biting cold. He winced slightly as the gears of the battered vehicle screeched and ground in protest as he dropped down into a lower gear to turn off the road at the place Ardeth, who was sat next to him, had indicated.

Rick drove carefully not wanting to stray from the barely visible track they were now on and risk getting the truck bogged down in the shifting sands. He scrupulously followed the other man's directions trusting Ardeth not to lead them astray. Just as he'd trusted him when with a cold, almost emotionless, expression Ardeth had told him that he had the perfect punishment for Jonathan's attackers. Rick still wasn't sure what that punishment was going to be but after seeing Jonathan frantic with worry for Evy's safety, and learning that one of the men who'd raped him had been near Evy, had spoken to her and that the threat of the same thing as had happened to Jonathan being done to his sister was being used as blackmail Jonathan into silence, Rick was angry enough to tear James Holden and his servant apart with his bare hands. He was just relieved that Jonathan had had enough trust and enough faith in him and Ardeth to overcome his trauma and fear to tell them everything. It had been hard to listen to but had served to strengthen Rick's resolve to make those bastards pay. As for Ardeth the guy was pretty inscrutable at the best of times but since listening to Jonathan's stuttered out account of what had happened to him Ardeth had become totally focused on only one goal – justice.

Getting their hands on Holden and his Egyptian servant who was his constant companion wasn't difficult. It seemed he thought his power over Jonathan was absolute and didn't fear that he would give away his attackers identities. What Holden had failed to realize was that Jonathan had friends now that he trusted with his life and with the life and well being of his sister. How could Holden begin to understand what they'd all been through together and how it had bound them together as more then just friends. When you'd risk your lives to save each other and escaped death a myriad of times there wasn't anything you wouldn't do for each other.

Jumping Holden and his servant in a dark Cairo alley had a certain irony to it after what Jonathan had told them that appealed to Rick. It had been fairly easy to over-power them neither of the other men a match for the fighting skill of Ardeth or himself. Once their hands had been tied behind their backs and a gag had silenced Holden's frightened protests and muffled his servant's whispered Arabic they'd been bundled into the back of the old truck one of Rick's less respectable old contacts who owed him a favour had lent him no questions asked the only proviso being that it was returned clean with, _"no hard to explain blood stains Rick." _After tying their feet together Rick had jumped into the cab and followed Ardeth's directions taking the other two men on what he knew, and he suspected they knew, would be the last journey of their lives.

Rick found his reminiscing interrupted by Ardeth's quietly spoken,

"We're here."

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Ardeth didn't think that he'd ever felt such cold rage in his life. Even facing the monster Imhotep and seeing the death he wrought and ever mind-full that if Imhotep regained his power that the very world would be laid waste had not brought about such a cold fire to race through his veins. Imhotep was a creature of darkness one who's soul had been corrupted by ancient dark magics, while the men who were tied up in the back of this truck were fully human. They had a soul and a conscience that they'd ignored to do unspeakable things to someone who meant everything to Ardeth. He had known immediately what punishment was called for, it was a punishment that his ancestors had reserved for only those who's transgressions were unforgivable. Ardeth had never seen it used during his lifetime but had heard whispers when he was a child that during his grandfather's time there had been a man from a Bedouin tribe who'd attacked one of the Medjai warriors wives and this had been the punishment the tribal council had deemed as appropriate.

He knew that he would be the one to inflict the punishment upon Jonathan's attackers and he'd have it no other way. Back at Hamunaptra he'd vowed to protect Jonathan with his life and although he knew that what had happened to Jonathan in Cairo hadn't been his fault he still felt as though he'd failed to uphold his vow and he needed atonement.

The journey out into the desert to a place that Ardeth knew would be perfect for his purposes was mostly silent and he was glad. He knew that O'Connell was a man who had seen more of life then most and that there was a steel inside of the American that matched his own. O'Connell wouldn't balk at what needed to be done. The outrage at what had been threatened against the woman he loved had made O'Connell the perfect accomplice.

The dawn revealed the ruins that were Ardeth's destination and as they loomed nearer he told O'Connell,

"We're here."

O'Connell peered through the dust covered windscreen towards the unremarkable looking tumbled down mud brick walls with several wooden posts still standing and slowed the truck until they came to a stop in front of the ruined structure.

Both men sat in silence for several seconds before Ardeth said,

"Come justice must be exacted upon those creatures who have hurt an innocent that we had both vowed to protect."

At his words O'Connell lips thinned to a hard line and Ardeth knew for certain that he hadn't underestimated the American when he'd seen in him someone like himself.

O'Connell didn't reply just nodding and moving to the back of the truck with Ardeth.

When they threw back the canvas flap from the back two pairs of frightened eyes stared back at them from the gloom. Although he could see the fear in the two men Ardeth had no sympathy, after all he'd heard Jonathan, words interspersed with quiet sobs, as he'd told them how he'd begged Holden not to rape him and how Holden had merely laughed at him. These two creatures that shrank back from him in terror as he reached for them had shown no mercy and so didn't deserve any.

Ardeth hauled Holden out of the truck dumping him unceremoniously onto the sand while O'Connell manhandled Holden's servant until he lay panting next to his master. Both of the bound men were trying to speak around their gags the desperate grunts and whines they were making falling upon deaf ears.

Ardeth reached down with his knife and cut the ropes binding the men's feet together and pulled Holden upright and began dragging him towards the ruins, O'Connell and his captive following along behind. Holden struggled against his hold but Ardeth wasn't about to let his prey escape him now and merely tightened his hold on the other man feeling his fingers digging into the flesh on the tops of Holden's arms and not caring how much pain and discomfort he was causing.

Once at the ruins Holden and his Egyptian servant were soon tied to two of the thick wooden stakes that still stood upright amongst the crumbling walls. Reaching out to the servant first Ardeth pulled the gag down from his mouth and asked him in Arabic,

"What is your name?"

"Hanif…it is Hanif. Please master, please I am innocent I did nothing…" the man babbled out in his native tongue.

Ardeth interrupted him coldly,

"Silence. You are as guilty as this creature." Here he indicated Holden. "You hurt one who had done nothing to you. You violated him and showed him no mercy and I will show you none."

Hanif knew who O'Connell was and knew what Ardeth was referring to, and although he didn't know who Ardeth was he knew this was a man of integrity and strength who would avenge his friend. He knew he was doomed and lowering his eyes he began murmuring his prayers to Allah hoping that he would be merciful upon his soul.

Stepping away from Hanif, Ardeth stood in front of Holden and studied him for a moment. He was aware of O'Connell's quiet presence behind him as he stared into the frightened eyes of the man in front of him and he found strength in that presence and his resolve hardened as he reached up and none-to-gently pulled the gag down.

Gulping in air Holden tried to bluster his way out of the situation first, as Ardeth had expected.

"How dare you lay hands on me and abduct me. I'll see you hanged for this you…you animals. I demand you release me immediately..."

Ardeth just took a step back to get out of range of the spittle that flew out of Holden's mouth as he shouted at them demanding to be released and raining empty threats of retribution upon their heads. Ardeth waited until Holden had exhausted himself leaving himself gasping and red in the face before he stepped in close and laying the cold metal of his knife blade against Holden's throat he said so quietly that even Rick standing close behind him had to strain to hear the words,

"You can make no more demands and no more threats. You won't ever hurt anybody again." Leaning in even closer so that Holden shivered as Ardeth's breath ghosted against his ear as he spoke Ardeth continued. "You hurt and violated one who's life is more precious to me then my own. One who I had sworn to protect. One who I have sworn to avenge. Your life is forfeit and I am here to collect."

Ardeth moved back and removed the knife from Holden's throat as Holden stared at him with wide eyes. Refusing to accept his fate as his servant had Holden stammered out,

"If…if this is about Carnahan…about…about what happened…it's not what you think. He...he wanted it…I…I didn't…Look if things got out of hand I'm s…sorry, but we didn't do anything he didn't want. If he's saying we forced him he's lying…he's ashamed of what he did and he's lying…"

"Enough!" Ardeth snarled. "Don't you dare sully him with your lies. It's time for you to face justice."

"No…no…" Holden whined as he saw Ardeth raise his knife once more. "You can't…you have no right. It'll be murder. If you want to hand us over to the authorities we'll stand trial in court, but this…this is murder."

"No." Ardeth told him calmly. "This is justice. The justice of my people. You are in our land and I shall exact justice our way. You committed the most heinous of crimes and for that you must suffer the most terrible of punishments which has been passed down to my people since the time of the pharaohs – the punishment of the five cuts."

88888888888888888

During the drive back to Cairo neither man spoke and as they'd driven away from the ruined buildings Rick had been careful not to look in the rear view mirror at the bloodied bodies that now hung limply from the ropes binding them to the wooden poles. The men weren't dead – not yet – the sun and the heat of the desert would finish them off slowly, and although the punishment had been harsh Rick only had to picture Jonathan's devastated face with eyes that were clouded with pain before any glimmer of sympathy he'd had with the two men who'd hurt him disappeared.

Glancing across at Ardeth, Rick studied the other man's profile as he gazed out of the windscreen. His face was cold but almost serene and Rick wondered what the other man was thinking. Before he turned his attention back to the road Rick spared one last glance down to Ardeth's hands which he held still in his lap. The blood on there had mostly been washed away with the water from one of their canteens but Rick could still see the dark red stains in the creases of Ardeth's knuckles and caught under his nails. A sudden memory of the metallic tang of so much blood filling the air assailed Rick's mind along with the vision of Ardeth slowly and methodically carrying out the punishment. Although Rick wasn't ashamed of what they'd done and he didn't regret it he knew the memory of it would stay with him for a long time to come, and when he thought about it maybe that was right.

Turning his attention back to the road Rick urged the truck on a little faster wanting to get back to Cairo, back to Evy and Jonathan. Hoping that at last they could begin to put the horrors of the past weeks behind them.

Author's Note: - The "Punishment of the Five Cuts" is, according to a documentary I saw on the History Channel, a genuine punishment used against those who'd carried out heinous crimes in ancient Egypt. It involves the criminal having his ears, lips, tongue and nose cut off and his eyes cut out. It was generally followed up by horizontal impalement – which I did spare Holden and Hanif LOL.


	18. Alone Chapter 18

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 18

With a tired sigh Jonathan finally dropped the book he'd been holding down onto the table next to him. He'd re-read the same page five times and had no idea at the end of it what it said so was pretty sure that he really wasn't in the mood for reading. Not that he'd ever been a book worm, not like Evy who'd devoured every book she'd ever gotten her hands on ever since she'd been a child. No, Jonathan liked to think of himself as more of a people-person, at his happiest when surrounded by others. He liked crowds…he could lose himself in the anonymity of a crowd. Amongst a crowd of strangers or acquaintances he become another person – confident, charming, irreverent. It was a persona he could slip into so easily that it was like a second skin. Except that now that skin had been shed. What Holden had done to him had striped away his mask and left Jonathan feeling naked and weak. All his insecurities, the acid burn of self-hatred that he kept hidden and suppressed inside, had been dragged out into the harsh light of day.

So he hid himself away in the sitting room that was attached to his bedroom. He refused to leave his rooms and turned away any visitors, thankful that since he'd recovered physically Evy and O'Connell had been busy finishing their business in Egypt and arranging their passage to England. He loved Evy more then anything in the world and seeing how much O'Connell adored his sister Jonathan had even begun to have a growing affection for the brash American, but when they both hovered over him trying to be helpful and kind he found it almost claustrophobic.

Besides the sooner they organised their trip back to England the sooner he could leave Egypt behind, his love for the country being blighted by too many bad memories. He'd be glad to leave except for one thing, or rather one person…Ardeth Bey.

The man had somehow gotten under Jonathan's skin despite his trying to keep everyone at arms length, afraid that if he let anyone too close one touch would be all it would take for him to shatter into a million pieces. Jonathan couldn't understand why something inside him, some vicious tight knot, loosened just a little in Ardeth's presence.

Yawning Jonathan leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment, he told himself, unwilling to go to sleep too afraid of what, of whom, waited for him in his dreams. Yet he was so tired. He hadn't slept properly since the attack, his rest shattered by terrifying nightmares that left him too afraid to go back to sleep after he'd awoken from them or just plain afraid to go to sleep in the first place.

Despite himself though his exhausted body had other ideas craving rest and Jonathan found himself drifting off into a doze that he just didn't seem to have to will to drag himself out of, it felt too good. However, a gentle touch on his shoulder and a voice calling his name soon startled him awake and Jonathan reacted instinctively to being touched. Crying out he tried to stand up and get away at the same time. Still half-asleep Jonathan found himself falling as he tried to stumble back only to find himself getting tangled up in his chair. The chair hit the floor with a heavy thud and Jonathan found himself falling in the opposite direction from it and his backside connecting with the wooden floor with an equally resounding thud that jarred his entire body from his coccyx up until it made his teeth rattle in his mouth.

Adrenaline coursing through his body he prepared himself to scrabble backwards away from his attacker before the soothing tones of the other person in the room broke through his fear and confusion. Looking up he saw the horrified face of Ardeth Bey looking down at him from several feet away after the man had obviously backed rapidly away from him after waking Jonathan up and finding himself in the same room as a mad man. Seeing the hands raised in front of Ardeth in an obviously placating gesture and the look on the Magi leader's face, a mixture of shock, horror and pity, Jonathan felt his own face begin to burn with a blush of embarrassment. Damn it he was going insane. If this was how he reacted to one of the people he trusted most in the world how would he ever be able to function in London society? Feeling a growing sense of despair Jonathan looked away from Ardeth and slowly pulled himself to his feet. He cast around in his mind for a quip or self-depreciating joke to lighten the mood, to deflect the other man's concern, to hide behind, but his mind was a blank.

"I'm sorry." The cool, measured voice of the other man broke the silence that was beginning to stretch too long. "I did not think. I did not mean to startle you."

Clearing his throat Jonathan tried for amused and confident, but knew that the slight tremor in his voice spoiled the effect somewhat as he replied,

"Oh that's alright Old Boy, you just caught me napping…gave me a bit of a start that's all."

Finally looking up into Ardeth's face Jonathan wondered if the smile he was attempting looked as brittle to other man as it felt on his lips. Judging by the way the slight frown on Ardeth's face deepened he surmised that it probably did.

"I think you are not being entirely truthful. This is more than me surprising you, you have not been comfortable around others since what happened." Ardeth said.

This wasn't a conversation Jonathan wanted to have – not now and perhaps not ever. If he were having a nervous breakdown then he'd just jolly well get on with it by himself without any interference from anybody else, thank you very much. Besides there was that feeling again in the pit of his stomach – that relaxing, a feeling of peace that the other man's presence always managed to elicit in him. It confused him and Jonathan was sick and tired of feeling off balance, of having no control, so he reached down inside of himself and tentatively grabbed hold of the other emotion he'd been feeling a lot of lately, one he'd tried very hard to suppress – anger. A dark seething mass of rage boiled and writhed deep inside of him and it frightened him so Jonathan had been doing his best to deny it, to keep it bottled up and shut away afraid of what might happen if it was unleashed. However, he thought that maybe just a little might make Ardeth go away, and if he went away then Jonathan could scrabble back some form of control over himself, maybe he could slip a mask into place and stop feeling so broken.

With a sneer he coloured his tone with just enough contempt to make his words sound more cruel,

"What as well as native mumbo jumbo and healing herbs you're also full of worldly wisdom are you?"

Ardeth looked startled at Jonathan's tone and a little hurt, and Jonathan felt his heart clench, surprised at how much seeing the other man hurt made him ache inside. He could feel his resolve crumbling and had to forced himself to look away from those dark, questioning eyes as he continued,

"Isn't it time to be off now anyway? Don't you have some ruins to guard or something?"

There was silence for a while and Jonathan almost wondered if the other man had silently left the room but then Ardeth spoke,

"It will not work."

Glancing up at him surprised Jonathan asked,

"What?"

"Trying to push me away…it will not work. You are hurt and confused and do not mean what you are saying."

"How do you know?" Jonathan asked him before adding. "You don't know me. You don't know what kind of person I am."

"I know that you are kind and brave. That you are loyal to your friends and that you love your sister and would do anything to protect her. I also know that you are hurting and confused and that you feel very alone, but you don't have to be."

At Ardeth's softly spoken words Jonathan felt something taut and painful inside his chest snap and his mouth went dry and it became a little difficult for a moment to breathe around the lump in his throat. Shaking his head he took a step back from the other man afraid that he was going to give into the almost overwhelming urge, the need, he felt to reach out and grab onto Ardeth's strength. But it was as if the Magi leader knew exactly what Jonathan was thinking, what he needed, because slowly and cautiously he stepped forward until he stood in front of Jonathan, and Jonathan was sure he could feel the heat from the other man's body and the tension in his own body felt intolerable. He was so tense, so tightly wound up, that he couldn't stop the trembling that overtook his body. Then very slowly and gently Ardeth reached out and stepping closer he pulled Jonathan into a hug whispering,

"You don't have to be alone…I'm here."

Finally Jonathan broke and as he wrapped his own arms around Ardeth's body, clinging on as if his life depended upon the contact, sobs began to wrack his frame and he buried his face in the other man's neck to hide his tears.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Mummy, I'm just borrowing them to play with.

Alone Chapter 19

It seemed to Jonathan that an eternity had passed since his angry, bitter tears had turned into broken sobs and all the while he had felt Ardeth's strong arms encircling him, supporting and comforting him. The throb of his heart beat sent a dull pain through his head and he felt drained and exhausted. Finally cried out he felt a surge of embarrassment that he was still holding onto the other man and he pushed himself back and away from the strong embrace feeling a flash of regret pass through him as the contact between them was broken. Looking down at the floor as he stood in front of Ardeth he stammered out an apology,

"S...sorry about that old man...don't know what came over me."

He desperately wanted to look up into the other man's face to see what his expression was but Jonathan was afraid that despite his earlier words of praise for his bravery Ardeth's face would now wear a mask of contempt, now that he had seen how truly weak and broken Jonathan really was. Jonathan's fear of seeing Ardeth's expression was borne of, he suddenly realised, a desperate need for the other man's respect and something deeper, something Jonathan felt confused about, something that he'd never felt before for another man... However, Before Jonathan could analyse the feeling he felt stirring within him he felt a gentle hand come to rest under his chin and slowly his gaze was raised from the floor and he found himself staring into a pair of rich chocolate brown eyes that looked at him, not with contempt as he had previously feared, but with a love that shone out of them so brightly that it filled Jonathan with wonder and took his breath away for a moment making him gasp in understanding. Time seemed to stand still as so very slowly Ardeth leant down slightly and softly pressed his lips against Jonathan's in a gentle kiss that was undemanding, almost chaste. Jonathan's mind was in a whirl but his body knew what he wanted, what he needed, and almost on instinct he parted his lips and allowed Ardeth's tongue into his mouth deepening their kiss. Jonathan felt as if he was completely encompassed by the other man, every sense in his body was filled by Ardeth, the feel of him, the scent of him, the sight of him, before Jonathan's eyes fluttered shut as he gave himself over completely to his feelings.

It was hearing himself moan as Ardeth tongue flicked across the roof of his mouth that finally broke the spell and Jonathan suddenly raised his right arm placing his hand firmly on Ardeth's chest pushing him away and breaking the contact between them. Stunned by what had just happened between them and shocked by his own reaction to it, which had not been one of fear or disgust, but rather of joy and arousal Jonathan stared at Ardeth's flushed face as he almost unconsciously raised his fingers to his lips and felt the ghost of Ardeth's lips still there against the sensitive flesh. Ardeth was perfectly still, panting slightly but not moving as if worried that if he did he might spook Jonathan into running away. In fact part of Jonathan did want to do just that, to run...run away from this new situation, the new feelings and sensations which seemed to have ambushed him from out of nowhere. That part of him that wanted to retreat was steadily winning out and Jonathan took several steps back away from the other man his eyes never leaving Ardeth's face. Jonathan saw worry crease Ardeth's brow and when Ardeth spoke he voice was low and quiet,

"I am sorry Jonathan, I did not mean for that to happen. I will understand if you do not wish to see me again."

Still feeling confused Jonathan said,

"I..." before pausing, trying to get his scattered thought into some order, "Why...why did you do that?"

Jonathan could hear the sadness in Ardeth's voice as he replied,

"I am sorry if I have hurt you, I would never want to cause you any pain. If..."

Interrupting him Jonathan again asked,

"Why did you do that? How could you? How could touch me like that when you know what...what those two...what they did to me...how dirty they've made me. How could you ever want to touch me...?"

"No, you are not dirty habibi. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen with a spirit that is kind and loving and brave and that could never be touched or sullied by what was forced upon you. I have desired you from the first moment I saw you in the desert travelling to Hamunaptra and as I have grown to know you that desire has deepened in to respect and love and nothing will change that, it is as timeless as the desert itself. If I have hurt you I beg for your forgiveness, and if you wish me to leave and never to see you again I shall." Ardeth told a stunned Jonathan in a voice filled with regret, longing and pain. The ever strong Medjai warrior, for the first time since Jonathan had known him, seeming unsure of himself.

Jonathan turned the other man's words over in his head trying to sort through his own feelings which were, at that moment, a jumbled mess. However, he was sure of one thing he didn't want Ardeth to leave Cairo. Wanting some time to himself to think he said,

"No, don't leave. I...I need to think that's all. I need some time."

"Of course," Ardeth said, " I will leave you, but I hope to be able to see you again."

Before he could reply Ardeth had turned and left them room and Jonathan once more raise his fingers to his mouth and let his finger tips lightly brush against the same place that Ardeth's lips had been not so long before.

However, Jonathan had not had much time to think as ten minutes later O'Connell and Evy had burst into the room and had been all smiles as they had informed him that they had just booked passage for all three of them to England on a ship that left early the next morning. If this news had reached him half an hour earlier he would have been overjoyed and relieved, but now his smile as O'Connell handed him his ticket was half-hearted and Jonathan knew he would have a long, sleepless night ahead of him as he tried to sort through all his feelings.

Jonathan had not seen Ardeth Bey for the rest of the previous day, not after the kiss they had shared and as the time neared for them to leave Fort Brydon and head for the port he feared that he might never see the other man again. However, an hour before they were due to leave O'Connell and Evy both came into his room and Evy said,

"Look Jonathan, Ardeth has come to say goodbye."

Looking up from where he had been fussing over the fastening on his trunk Jonathan felt the heat of a blush colour his face when he saw the other man and he could see the tension that took over Ardeth body as his gaze was returned, he also thought he saw his sister's eyes widen in understanding before she began pulling on O'Connell's arm ushering him out of the room telling him that she need him to help her bring he bags downstairs as they were too heavy for her to carry. Jonathan heard Rick's exasperated voice telling his sister, as she hurried him down the corridor,

"Well if you didn't have so many books stuffed into all your bags you'd be able to carry them yourself."

Quickly walking past Ardeth, Jonathan closed the door to his room that Rick had left open, and leaning back against it he turned to look at the other man. Taking a deep breath he knew that however difficult this might prove to be he had made up his mind what he was going to say to the other man in the early hours of the morning after a night spent tossing and turning trying to resolve the conundrum that the kiss they had shared the day before had posed him.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come." He admitted first.

"If you had told me not to yesterday I would have respected your wishes and stayed away but when I met O'Connell and he told me that you were leaving so soon...I needed to see you one more time. I needed to ask for your forgiveness for what I did yesterday. If I hurt you I will not be able to forgive myself"

Jonathan could hear the regret in Ardeth's voice and resolved to show the other man that his fears were unfounded by the best way he could think of and stepping forward he went to Ardeth and lifting his face up to the other man's he kissed him very gently on the lips before stepping back again. Then he said,

"There is nothing to forgive. You gave me a precious gift yesterday...you gave me your love and after what happened to me I never thought anyone would want to do that again. But I can't take the gift you are offering me...I'm sorry. If I had known how you felt before...well I don't know what would have happened but now...I...I just can't. It wouldn't be fair on you because I can't give you what you want...I can't give you myself because I don't know who I am anymore. The person I thought I was...I'm not sure he's there anymore and I need to find out what is going to take his place before I give myself to anyone else...and to be honest I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to be with anyone again."

As he'd spoken Jonathan had watched the sadness deepen in Ardeth's eyes, but he'd also seen acceptance of his decision. The silence between weighed heavily for several moments before Ardeth replied,

"I respect your choice habibi, but must tell you that you are, and always will be, first in my heart, and that if Allah is willing I know that we shall see each other again. Until that time I wish you peace and happiness."

Before he had the chance to reply Ardeth had left and the sound of the door shutting behind him sounded loud in Jonathan's ears.

A little later standing at the railing of the ship as it moved away from the harbour wall Jonathan knew O'Connell was wrong when he said,

"Doesn't look like Ardeth has come to see us off."

Because just beyond the crowds that lined the dock-side Jonathan could see one lone figure dressed in black who stayed watching the ship fade into the distance long after Jonathan had lost sight of him, and although he couldn't see him anymore Jonathan was sure he caught the word _"habibi" _softly whispered to him on the wind.

Author's Note: - Arabic/English translation: - Habibi/Beloved one.

**THE END**


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